FRANK 


REWARD 


BURT- L 
STAN  DISH 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


Both  Merry  mid  Hodge  forgot  their  discomfort,  forgot  their  chilled  find  l>e- 
iiiiinlicil  condition,  and.  lifting  themselves  as  high  as  they  could,  shouted  for 
aafotance.  (See  page  254) 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S 
REWARD 


BY 

BURT  L.  STANDISH 

AUTHOR   OF 

"Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days,"  "Frank  Merriwell's  Chums," 
"  Frank  Merriwall's  Foes,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA 

DAVID  McKAY,   PUBLISHER 

604-8  SOUTH  WASHINGTON  SQUARE 


Copyright.  '9«« 
siKhhl   &  SMITH 


Prank  Mernwell's  Reward 


AM  rights  r«c«rve<i,  Including  that  of  translation  Into  fortign  UnguagM, 
including  the  Scandinavian. 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S  REWARD. 


CHAPTER  I. 

X  RUNAWAY  AUTOMOBILE. 

"Li,  there !    Hook  out !"  shouted  Harry  Rattleton. 

"Hi,  there!  Look  out!"  echoed  Bart  Hodge,  getting* 
the  words  straight  which  Harry  had  twisted. 

"Get  out  of  the  way,  fellows !"  warned  Jack  Diamond. 

"The  juice  that  it's  loaded  with  must  be  bug  juice!" 
squealed  Danny  Griswold.  "It's  crazy  drunk !" 

"Tut-tut-tut-turn  the  cue-crank  the  other  way!"  bel- 
lowed Joe  Gamp. 

"This  crank,"  said  Bink  Stubbs,  giving  Gamp  a  twist 
that  spun  him  round  like  a  top. 

"I've  always  believed  that  more  than  half  of  these 
new-fangled  inventions  are  devices  of  Satan,  and  now  I 
know  it!"  grumbled  Dismal  Jones. 

"You'll  be  more  certain  of  it  than  ever  if  you  let  it 
run  over  you !"  Frank  Merriwell  warned,  stepping  to 
the  sidewalk,  and  drawing  Dismal's  lank  body  quickly 
back  from  the  street. 

"Huah!    It's  worse  than  a  cranky  horse  I" 


6  A  Runaway  Automobile. 

Bruce  Browning  reached  down,  took  Danny  Griswold 
by  the  collar,  and  placed  the  little  fellow  behind  him. 

"Unselfishly  trying  to  save  your  bacon  at  the  expense 
of  my  own!"  Browning  suavely  explained,  as  Danny 
began  to  fume.  "Do  you  want  that  thing  to  step  on 
you?" 

An  electric  hansom,  which  had  sailed  up  the  street  in 
an  eminently  respectable  manner,  had  suddenly  and  with- 
out apparent  reason  begun  to  act  in  an  altogether  dis- 
reputable way.  It  had  veered  round,  rushed  over  the 
crossing,  and  made  a  bee-line  for  the  sidewalk,  almost 
running  down  a  party  of  Frank  Merriwell's  friends,  who 
were  out  for  an  afternoon  stroll  on  the  street  in  the  pleas- 
ant spring  sunshine. 

The  motorman,  who  occupied  a  grand-stand  seat  in  the 
rear,  seemed  to  have  lost  control  of  the  automobile.  He 
was  excitedly  fumbling  with  his  levers,  but  without  be- 
ing able  to  bring  the  carriage  to  a  stop. 

The  street  was  crowded  with  people  at  the  time,  and 
when  the  electric  carriage  began  to  cut  its  eccentric 
capers  there  was  a  rush  for  places  of  safety,  while  the  air 
•was  filled  with  excited  cries  and  exclamations. 

Merriwell  could  see  the  head  of  a  passenger,  a  man, 
through  the  window  of  the  automobile. 

"She's  cue-coming  this  way  again!"  shouted  Gamp. 
"Look  out,  fellows!" 

The  front  tires  struck  the  curbing  with  such  force 


A  Runaway  Automobile.  7 

that  the  motorman  was  pitched  from  his  high  seat,  land- 
ing heavily  on  his  head  in  the  gutter. 

Bruce  Browning  was  one  of  the  first  to  reach  him. 

"Give  him  air !"  Bruce  commanded,  lifting  the  man  in 
his  arms  and  stepping  toward  a  drug-store  on  the 
corner. 

Some  of  the  crowd  streamed  after  Browning,  but  by 
far  the  greater  number  remained  to  watch  the  antics 
of  the  automobile. 

The  man  inside  was  fumbling  at  the  door  and  trying 
to  get  out.  The  misguided  auto  climbed  the  curbing  and 
tried  to  butt  down  the  wall  of  a  store  building. 

"Give  it  some  climbin'-irons !"  yelled  a  newsboy. 

The  automobile,  with  its  front  wheels  pressed  against 
the  wall,  began  to  rear  up  like  a  great  black  bug,  deter- 
mined apparently  to  scale  the  perpendicular  side  of  the 
building  and  enter  through  one  of  the  open  windows 
above.  As  soon  as  he  saw  the  motorman  pitched  into 
the  gutter,  Merriwell  moved  toward  the  carriage. 

"Time  to  take  a  hand  in  this!"  was  his  thought. 
"There  will  be  more  hurt,  if  I  don't !" 

He  leaped  to  the  step,  but  before  he  could  mount 
to  the  high  seat  the  auto  was  butting  blindly  against 
the  wall. 

"He's  goin'  ter  shut  off  the  juice!"  squeaked  the 
newsboy. 

What  the  trouble  had  been  with  the  lerers  Merry 
did  not  know.  When  he  took  hold  of  them,  the  hansom 


8  A  Runaway  Automobile. 

became  manageable  and  obedient.  He  shut  off  the  elec- 
tricity, and  the  front  wheels  dropped  down  from  the  wall. 
The  next  moment  he  swung  to  the  ground  and  opened 
the  door. 

To  his  surprise,  the  man  who  emerged  from  the  car- 
riage was  Dunstan  Kirk,  the  leader  of  the  Yale  ball- 
team. 

"Glad  to  see  you !"  gasped  Kirk.  "I  couldn't  get  out, 
and  I  was  expecting  the  thing  to  turn  over!  I  believe 
I'm  not  hurt." 

"The  motorman  is,  though !  He  has  been  carried  into 
the  drug-store." 

Frank  looked  toward  the  drug-store,  and  saw  an 
ambulance  dash  up  to  convey  the  injured  man  to  the 
hospital. 

"Glad  you're  all  right!"  turning  again  to  the  base- 
ball-captain. "These  things  are  cranky  at  times.  I've 
had  some  experience  with  one." 

A  policeman  pushed  forward  to  take  possession  of  the 
automobile  until  the  company  could  send  another  mo- 
torman. 

The  ambulance  dashed  away,  and  Browning,  Diamond, 
and  Rattleton  came  across  the  street  hurriedly  from 
the  apothecary's.  Bink  and  Danny,  Gamp  and  Dismal- 
other  friends  of  his — were  already  crowding  round  Mer- 
riwell.  Back  of  them  was  a  pushing,  excited  throng. 

"Which  way  did  that  carriage  go?"  Kirk  demanded. 

"Which  carriage?" 


A  Runaway  Automobile.  9 

"The  one  that  was  just  ahead  of  us.  I  was  chasing  it 
in  the  automobile  ?" 

"With  a  driver  in '  a  green  livery  and  a  bay  horse  ?" 
asked  the  newsboy,  who  had  pushed  into  the  inner  circle. 

"Yes.     Which  way  did  it  go?" 

"Turned  de  first  corner." 

"Let's  get  a  cab!"  said  Kirk.  "Come,  I  want  you  to 
go  with  me !" 

He  caught  Merriwell  by  the  arm.  A  cab  had  drawn 
up  near  the  curbing,  and  toward  this  they  moved,  Mer- 
riwell reserving  his  questions  until  later. 

Dunstan  hurriedly  gave  instructions  to  the  driver, 
and  climbed  in  after  Merriwell. 

"Now,  what  does  this  mean?"  Frank  demanded,  as 
the  cab  started  with  a  lurch.  "What  sort  of  a  wild- 
goose  chase  are  you  on  ?" 

"What  made  that  auto-carriage  do  that  way?" 

"There  was  something  the  matter  with  it,  I  suppose." 

"It  struck  me  that  the  motorman  may  have  been  in 
the  pay  of  the  fellow  I  was  chasing." 

He  lowered  his  voice,  even  though  the  rattling  of 
hoofs  and  wheels  and  the  noises  of  the  street  rendered  it 
wholly  improbable  that  the  driver  or  any  one  else  could 
hear  what  was  spoken  inside. 

"Frankly,  Merriwell,  the  chap  I  was  chasing-  looked 
like  Morton  Agnew !  I  was  in  Mason  &  Fettig's,  five 
or  six  blocks  above,  when  some  one  came  into  the  other 
room  and  passed  a  counterfeit  ten-dollar  bill  on  the  pro- 


io  A  Runaway  Automobile. 

prietor.  He  discovered  it  while  the  fellow  was  going 
through  the  door,  and  gave  a  call.  I  ran  to  the  door 
and  saw  the  rascal — not  well,  you  know,  but  a  side  glance 
— not  much  more  than  a  flash — and  I  thought  he  was 
Agnew.  Of  course,  I  couldn't  swear  to  it.  I  may  have 
been  mistaken.  But  to  satisfy  myself,  I  jumped  into  that 
automobile  and  gave  chase.  He  saw  I  was  pursuing  him 
and  he  sprang  into  a  cab.  I  was  determined  to  overhaul 
the  scamp  and  satisfy  myself  on  that  one  point.  Per- 
haps I  ought  not  to  mention  the  name,  as  I  am  so  un- 
certain, and  I  shall  not  mention  it  to  any  one  else." 

Dunstan  Kirk,  the  athletic  and  capable  captain  of  the 
baseball-team,  had  come  to  admire  and  trust  Frank  Mer- 
riwell.  He  had  seen  enough  to  know  that  Frank  could 
be  trusted  in  any  way  and  in  any  place. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?"  he  asked. 

"That  there  is  no  chance  now  of  discovering  whether 
your  suspicions  were  true  or  false.  Unless" — hesitatingly 
— "you  should  cause  Agnew's  arrest,  and  have  him  taken 
before  the  man  who  was  cheated.  Or  you  might  tell 
the  man  your  suspicions,  and  let  him  act  in  the  matter." 

"I  am  not  certain  enough !"  said  Kirk.  "It's  too  bad  he 
got  away !  The  motorman  couldn't  have  been  in  his  pay  ?" 

"If  so,  he  has  received  his  pay!"  said  Merry  mean- 
ingly. "He  went  out  of  that  seat  on  his  head  and  struck 
hard.  I  think  the  motorman  simply  found  the  hansom 
unmanageable,  for  some  reason.  Those  carriages  take 
freaks  at  times." 


A  Runaway  Automobile.  II 

"And  your  opinion  about  Agnew?" 

"He  isn't  too  good  to  do  such  a  thing,  and  I  hare 
had  reason  to  believe  lately  that  he  is  hard  up.  He  used 
to  hold  himself  up  by  his  winnings  at  cards,  but  he  has 
cheated  so  outrageously  and  boldly  that  the  students 
fight  pretty  shy  of  him." 

"We're  just  wasting  our  time,  I'm  afraid!"  Kirk 
grumbled,  as  the  cab  rattled  on  down  the  street. 

"Hold  on !"  said  Merriwell,  looking  through  the  win- 
dow. "There  is  your  green-liveried  driver  and  your  bay 
horse!" 

Though  the  cab  in  question  was  standing  by  a  curb- 
ing, Frank  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  horse  was  sweaty  and 
showed  other  signs  of  recent  fast  driving. 

"Empty,  and  the  bird  has  flown!"  he  observed,  as  the 
cab  they  were  in  stopped  and  they  got  out.  "Whoever 
he  was — Agnew,  or  another  man — he  has  had  time  to 
escape !" 

The  green-liveried  driver  was  questioned,  but  no  in- 
formation of  value  was  obtained,  and  when  it  was  seen 
that  there  was  no  chance  of  settling  the  question  which 
had  moved  Dunstan  Kirk  to  the  pursuit,  Kirk  settled 
with  the  driver  of  the  cab  that  had  brought  them  thus 
far,  and  he  and  Merriwell  went  into  the  nearest  res- 
taurant. 

"I  understand  you  don't  smoke,  or  I  might  be  tempted 
to  order  cigars,"  he  said,  as  a  waiter  came  forward  foi 
their  orders,  after  they  had  taken  seats  at  a  table  in  one 


12  A  Runaway  Automobile. 

of  the  small  side  rooms.  "I  wanted  to  have  a  talk 
with  you  about  certain  matters.  Not  about  Agnew,  but 
concerning  Buck  Badger!" 

When  the  waiter  had  gone  he  continued : 

"I  am  interested  in  Badger's  pitching.  The  fellow 
has  good  pitching  ability.  But  he  is  erratic.  Sometimes 
he  pitches  wonderfully.  Then  the  very  next  time  he  will 
fall  away  down.  I  am  convinced  that  what  he  needs  as 
much  as  anything  else  is  the  right  kind  of  encourage- 
ment." 

"I  consider  him  one  of  the  very  best  of  the  new  men 
who  have  come  up  with  pitching  ambitions,"  said  Mer- 
riwell.  "I  have  noticed  the  things  you  say." 

"You  were  kind  enough  some  time  ago  to  recommend 
him  to  my  notice,"  Kirk  went  on,  as  if  feeling  his  way. 
"You  would  be  glad  to  help  him,  perhaps." 

"I  shall  be  very  glad  to  help  him,  if  I  can,  and  to 
serve  you  in  any  way,  Kirk.  But  you  know  he  doesn't 
like  me  very  well.  There  must  be  a  willingness  on  both 
sides,  you  see — just  as  it  takes  two  to  make  a  quarrel !" 

"I  haven't  sounded  him,  but  I  fancy  he  would  be  will- 
ing. He  isn't  doing  any  good  lately.  You  may  have 
noticed  that,  too?" 

"Yes." 

The  waiter  brought  the  things  ordered,  and  went  away 
again. 

"That  Crested  Foam  affair   is   the  cause,   I   fancy," 


A  Runaway  Automobile.  1} 

Dunstan  Kirk  went  on,  breaking  a  cracker  and  helping 
himself  to  some  cheese. 

Frank  Merriwell  had  thought  the  same,  but  he  did 
not  wish  to  say  so. 

"He  hasn't  acted  right  since  then.  And  by  right,  I 
mean  natural,  you  understand !  I  suppose  it  grinds  him 
to  know  that  such  a  fellow  as  Barney  Lynn  could  drug 
and  rob  him  in  that  way." 

Merriwell  flashed  Dunstan  Kirk  a  quick  look.  It  was 
evident  that  the  captain  of  the  Yale  baseball-team  did 
not  know  that  Buck  Badger  was  intoxicated  when  he 
•was  lured  aboard  the  excursion  steamer,  Crested  Foam. 

A  similar  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  true  condition 
of  affairs  at  that  time  had  been  noticed  by  Merriwell 
in  the  conversation  of  others.  The  newspapers  in  the 
notices  of  the  burning  of  the  steamer  had  given  attention 
chiefly  to  Lynn,  merely  stating  briefly  that  Badger  had 
been  drugged  and  robbed  by  the  ex-boat-keeper. 

"I  shouldn't  think  it  would  be  a  pleasant  reflection," 
'Frank  answered. 

"Very  humiliating  to  a  man  of  Badger's  character. 
And  it  has  just  taken  the  heart  out  of  him.  Until  that 
time  he  was  one  of  the  most  promising  of  the  new 
pitchers-  at  Yale.  I  was  expecting  good  things  from  him. 
Now  he  seems  to  be  nothing  but  a  blighted  'has-been  I'  " 

Merriwell  smiled. 

"And  of  all  the  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen, 
The  saddest  are  these :  'It  might  have  been !' " 


14  A  Runaway  Automobile. 

"Just  so,"  assented  Kirk.  "It's  too  bad  to  see  a 
capable  fellow  go  to  the  bone  pile!  I  don't  like  it.  I 
talked  with  him  and  tried  to  encourage  him,  but  it  had 
no  permanent  effect.  He  braced  up  for  a  little  while, 
and  then  slumped  again." 

"At  heart,  Badger  is  very  proud!"  Frank  explained. 
"He  wouldn't  admit  it,  perhaps,  even  to  himself.  He 
craves  popularity,  too,  though  he  affects  not  to  care  at 
all  for  the  opinions  of  others.  It  has  been  his  mis- 
fortune not  to  be  popular.  His  disposition  is  against  it. 
This  has  made  him  very  sore  at  times,  though  he  has 
tried  to  conceal  the  fact.  Now  you  can  see  that  to  a 
man  of  his  disposition  the  things  that  happened  on  the 
Crested  Foam  would  be  tremendously  depressing." 

The  captain  of  the  ball-team  would  have  seen  even 
more  clearly  how  depressing  they  were  if  he  had  known 
all  that  Merriwell  knew. 

"Somehow,  he  seems  to  me  like  a  man  who  is  under 
the  impression  that  he  has  lost  all  of  his  friends,"  said 
Kirk.  "He  needs  to  be  assured  that  such  is  not  the  case 
— that  his  friends  and  acquaintances  have  no  desire  to  cut 
him.  I  think  if  that  could  be  done  he  would  come  out 
of  the  slough  of  despond  and  be  worth  something.  We 
may  need  him  this  summer;  or  a  man  who  has  his  pitch- 
ing ability  ought  to  develop  into  something  worth  while." 

Frank  saw  that  Dunstan  Kirk  was  edging  toward  some 
kind  of  a  request. 

"If  there  is  anything  I  can  do !"  he  invited. 


A  Runaway  Automobile.  15 

"Well,  as  your  picked  nine  is  to  play  Abernathy's 
nine,  of  Hartford,  on  the  ball-grounds  here  next  Satur- 
day, I  wondered  if  you  would  be  willing  to  let  Badger 
pitch.  It  is  an  unheard-of  sort  of  request  to  make,  I 
know,  and  it  leaves  me  under  the  suspicion  of  wanting 
to  See  you  beaten  by  the  Hartford  fellows.  But  I  hope 
you  know  me  well  enough  to  understand  that  such  cannot 
be  the  case." 

"Sure  !    I'd  never  thought  of  it,  if  you  hadn't!" 

"I've  thought  of  asking  this  of  you  for  a  day  or  two. 
You  see,  if  you,  who  are  not  particularly  Badger's  friend, 
show  such  a  disposition  to  recognize  and  honor  his 
pitching  abilities,  it  ought  to  brace  him  up !" 

Merriwell  drummed  thoughtfully  on  the  table. 

"Perhaps  it  can  be  done !  If  it  will  brace  him  up  any 
and  put  him  on  his  feet,  I  shall  be  glad  to  show  Badger 
all  the  consideration  I  can." 

'**!  was  almost  afraid  to  mention  it,"  explained  Kirk, 
"for  I  know  that  he  has  not  felt  just  right  toward  you. 
But  if  you  will?" 

"I  intended  to  pitch  that  game  myself,  for  Abernathy's 
men  are  not  the  easiest  things  on  the  planet.  Of  course, 
if  Badger  falls  down,  I  should  be  compelled  to  go  into 
the  box  and  do  my  best  to  save  the  day.  And  with  a 
fellow  like  Badger,  that  might  not  work  well.  It  would 
be  just  like  him  to  think  that  I  did  it  to  humiliate  him 
and  show  myself  the  better  pitcher  1  You  see  the  pos- 
sibility?" 


1 6  A  Runaway  Automobile. 

"Yes,  I  see  it!" 

There  were  other  considerations,  which  Frank  did  not 
desire  at  the  moment  to  mention. 

"I'll  have  a  talk  with  'Badger,  and  see  what  I  can  do!" 
Kirk  went  on.  "When  he  was  so  wildly  ambitious,  a 
little  while  back,  a  word  from  me  might  have  settled 
it;  but  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  show  him  by  argument 
tnat  he  ought  to  accept  your  friendly  offer.  You  au- 
thorize me  to  make  that  as  an  offer  ?" 

"Yes.  I'm  willing  to  try  to  help  Badger.  He  has 
good  stuff  in  him,  and,  as  you  say,  it  would  be  too  bad 
for  him  to  get  into  the  dumps  and  neglect  to  develop 
it.  I  can  arrange  it,  I  think,  and,  if  he  will  pitch  for 
us  Saturday,  he  may.  With  the  clear  understanding  that 
I  am  at  liberty  without  question  to  take  the  pitcher's  box 
at  any  time  I  see  fit !" 

"Of  course!" 

The  captain's  face  had  brightened.  He  was  not  a  par- 
tisan of  Buck  Badger,  nor  of  any  man.  He  cared  only 
for  the  recognition  and  development  of  the  best  Yale 
players  and  the  triumph  of  the  Yale  nine.  And  because 
he  recognized  in  Frank  Merriwell  these  same  unselfish 
qualities  he  had  come  to  him  with  this  request. 

"I  doubt  much  if  Badger  will  accept  the  offer,"  said 
Frank. 

"I  shall  take  the  offer  to  him,  anyway.  I  believe  it 
will  brighten  him  to  receive  it,  even  if  he  refuses  it, 
That  desire  for  popularity  which  you  mentioned  witt,  1 


A  Runaway  Automobile.  .7 

think,  make  him  accept.  He  may  tell  himself  and  all  his 
friends  that  he  doesn't  care  for  your  opinion,  but  he  does, 
just  the  same!  He  can't  help  caring  for  the  opinion  of 
any  man  who  is  a  gentleman.  I  shall  approach  him 

carefully!" 


CHAPTER  II. 

HOW   THE   NEWS   WAS   RECEIVED. 

"Huah!"  grunted  Browning,  opening  his  eyes  a  trifle 
in  surprise,  "don't  that  jar  you?" 

"What  will  Bart  say  ?"  gasped  Rattleton. 

"Merriwell  doesn't  have  to  take  his  orders  from 
Hodge!"  snapped  Diamond.  "But,  just  the  same,  I 
think  it's  a  fool  sort  of  agreement !" 

Merriwell  was  in  his  room  talking  to  some  of  his 
friends  of  the  request  of  the  baseball-captain. 

"Hodge  will  be  cot  under  the  holler!"  sputtered  Rat- 
tleton. 

"My  dear  Rattles,  don't  worry  about  Hodge!"  Dia- 
mond begged. 

"If  you  had  only  said  to  that  captain,  'Get  thee  be- 
hind me,  Satan !'  "  grumbled  Dismal  Jones.  "But,  of 
course,  you  could  not  resist  such  a  temptation !  When 
evil  makes  itself  seem  to  us  good,  we're  sure  to  give  way. 
'Let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth,  take  heed  lest  he 
fall!'" 

Merriwell  smiled.  He  liked  to  get  the  opinions  of  his 
friends,  though  usually  he  acted  on  his  own. 

"So  you  think  it  was  a  temptation  instead  of  an  op- 
portunity ?" 

"What  is  a  temptation?"  chirped  Bink  Stubbs. 


How  the  News  Was  Received.         19 

"Why,  every  time  you  grin  at  me  that  way  I  want 
to  hit  you  in  the  mouth,"  explained  Danny.  "It's  a 
temptation  I  can  hardly  resist!" 

"Crush  it!"  yelled  Bink,  feinting  with  his  fists.  "If 
you  don't,  I'll  have  to!" 

"Somebody  throw  those  idiots  out  of  the  window!" 
growled  Bruce,  seeking  solace  in  his  pipe. 

"Somebody  give  me  a  light  for  this  cigarette  first," 
begged  Danny.  "If  I  must  fall  I  want  help  to  alight !" 

"Shouldn't  think  you'd  need  it!"  Browning  declared. 
"You  have  a  light  head.  It  would  hold  you  up  like  a 
balloon !" 

"Of  course,  if  the  captain  wanted  you  to  take  on  Bad- 
ger and  you've  promised  to  do  it,  you'll  have  to  go  ahead. 
I'll  band  sty  you — I  mean  I'll  stand  by  you !  I'll  do  my 
best  to  hold  down  third,  no  matter  who  is  pitching1." 

Frank  gave  Rattleton  a  grateful  look. 

"You're  always  loyal,  Harry!" 

"Oh,  I  suppose  that  all  of  us  will  have  to  accept  it, 
and  do  the  best  we  can,"  Diamond  admitted,  "but  I  don't 
like  it,  and  that's  flat.  None  of  us  has  fallen  in  love 
with  Buck  Badger!" 

"We'll  be  bub-bub-bub-beat  worse  than  any  old  drum !" 
grunted  Gamp. 

"Everlastingly  thumped !"  wailed  Danny. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  can  get  up  enough  interest  to 
do  much  good  on  first,"  grumbled  Bruce,  who  was  as 
little  pleased  as  any  one. 


20        How  the  News  Was  Received. 

"What's  the  use  of  going  to  the  trouble  of  playing 
when  you  know  at  the  start  that  you're  to  be  defeated  ?" 

"Look  here,  Bruce!"  said  Merriwell  firmly.  "I  don't 
want  to  hear  you  talk  that  way!  We  are  not  going  to 
be  beaten.  We  will  wallop  Abernathy's  men,  and  don't 
you  worry.  We  can  do  it  all  right !" 

"Isn't  that  the  crack  team  of  Hartford?"  demanded 
Diamond. 

"Yes.     Nothing  better  over  there,  I  think." 

"Then  there  will  be  no  dead-easy  business  about  it. 
They're  not  going  to  lie  down  and  let  us  walk  over  them, 
just  for  the  purpose  of  stiffening  the  spine  of  that 
Kansan !" 

Jack  Diamond  was  disgusted  with  the  outlook. 

"Have  I  said  that  they  are  easy?"  Merriwell  asked. 
"I  only  said  I  felt  sure  we  could  defeat  them.  And  we 
can.  Badger  is  a  good  pitcher.  You  know  that.  And  if 
he  loses  his  nerve,  I  shall  very  promptly  take  his  place. 
There  will  be  no  monkeying.  You  are  the  fellows  that 
seem  to  be  in  the  notion  of  lying  down." 

"Oh,  we'll  play!"  grunted  Bruce.  "We're  just  airing 
our  little  opinions.  I  expected  to  see  you  in  the  box  Sat- 
urday, and  I'm  disappointed.  I  suppose  that's  all !" 

He  gave  a  tug  at  his  pipe  and  rolled  over  lazily  on  the 
lounge,  as  if  that  settled  it. 

"Of  course  we'll  play,"  agreed  Diamond.  "But  I 
don't  like  to  go  into  the  game  with  Badger  in  the  box. 
I  don't  like  him.  The  fellow  has  made  himself  an  in- 


How  the  News  Was  Received.        21 

sufferable  nuisance.  I  don't  agree  with  you  that  he  is 
such  a  wonder.  He's  a  very  ordinary  fellow,  with  a  rich 
father  and  a  swelled  head.  Out  West,  where  he  came 
from,  everybody  got  down  on  their  knees  to  him,  and 
here  at  Yale  that  sort  of  business  don't  go.  Nobody 
cares  whether  his  father  is  a  cattleman  or  a  cow-puncher. 
He  wants  to  be  worshiped,  and  Yale  isn't  in  the  wor- 
shiping business.  Consequently,  he's  sore  all  the  time !" 

Jack  forgot  that,  when  he  arrived  at  Yale  a  few  years 
ago,  he  expected  homage  on  account  of  his  family  and 
pedigree. 

"And  I  don't  forget  that  he  went  aboard  the  Crested 
Foam  blind  drunk,  and  made  an  ass  of  himself  gen- 
erally!" said  Bruce,  rousing  again. 

"That's  one  reason  Merry  wants  to  give  him  a  show !" 
said  Rattleton.  "Badger  has  an  idea  that  everybody  who 
knows  about  it  feels  just  as  you  do,  and  Frank  wants 
to  show  him  that  they  don't.  See?" 

"Oh,  we'll  play,  of  course!"  Bruce  grumbled,  rolling 
back  again. 

"Sus-sure!"  declared  Gamp.  "Whatever  Mum-Merry 
says,  gug-gug-gug-gug " 

"Are  you  trying  to  say  goshfry?"  Danny  mildly  asked, 
wetting  the  end  of  an  unlighted  cigarette. 

"Gug-goes!"  sputtered  Gamp,  giving  Danny  a  kiclc 
that  fairly  lifted  him  from  the  floor.  "You  mum-mum- 
wum-measly  runt,  I'll  kuk-kill  you !" 


22         How  the  News  Was  Received. 

"Because  he's  a  joker,  Danny  thinks  he  is  the  only  card 
in  the  pack!"  said  Dismal. 

"If  Merry  says  we  can  go  into  that  game  next  Sat- 
urday with  Badger  in  the  box  and  earth  the  wipe — I 
mean  wipe  the  earth  with  those  fellows  from  Hartford, 
we  can  do  it!"  Rattleton  declared  emphatically.  "You 
know  he  wouldn't  say  such  a  thing  if  he  wasn't  sure 
of  it." 

"There  are  only  two  absolutely  sure  things,  death 
and  taxes,"  said  Merriwell  soberly.  "If  I  put  too  much 
emphasis  on  my  belief,  I'll  have  to  withdraw  it.  I  mean 
to  say  that  I  believe  we  can." 

"And  that's  about  the  same  as  saying  that  we  can !" 
Rattleton  asserted. 

"I'm  only  doubtful  about  Bart/'  said  Dismal,  like  a 
prophet  of  evil. 

"He  will  never  catch  for  Badger!"  Diamond  declared. 

"I  think  he  will !"  sputtered  Rattleton.  "He  will  see  it 
just  as  we  do,  after  Merry  talks  with  him.  Of  course, 
we  don't  any  of  us  love  Badger,  but  what's  the  differ- 
ence?" 

"Let  'er  go!"  cried  Bink,  holding  up  his  hands  as  if 
they  gripped  a  bat.  "Of  course,  we'll  play  ball!" 

"Of  course!"  said  Dismal.  "We'll  pitch  Bart  out  of 
the  camp  if  he  makes  a  kick.  The  fellow  that  balks  on 
that,  when  he  understands  it,  is  'fit  for  treason,  stratagem, 
and  spoil !' " 

Shortly  after,  Merriwell  met  Hodge  on  the  campus, 


How  the  News  Was  Received.        23 

coming  from  the  fence.  He  saw  at  once  that  Bart  was 
"steaming." 

"Look  here,  Merriwell,"  said  Hodge,  bristling  with  in- 
dignation. "It  surely  can't  be  true  that  you're  going  to 
put  Badger  into  the  pitcher's  box  next  Saturday?" 

Frank  took  him  by  the  arm  and  turned  with  him  away 
from  the  crowd. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  "I  have  promised  to  do  that" 

Hodge's  face  grew  black  with  wrath. 

"You've  made  a  fool  of  yourself!"  he  roughly  de- 
clared. "I  wouldn't  believe  it.  I  said  it  was  a  lie,  and 
I  threatened  to  thump  the  face  off  of  Donald  Pike  be- 
cause he  told  it.  Say,  Merry,  you  don't  really  mean 
it?" 

Frank  had  dropped  Bart's  arm,  but  they  still  walked 
on  together.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  he  did  not  like 
Hodge's  tone  and  manner. 

"I  must  say  you  are  outspoken  and  far  from  com- 
plimentary," he  observed. 

"I  know  I  don't  talk  like  this  to  you  often." 

"That's  right.  If  you  did,  I'm  afraid  we  might  not 
be  such  good  friends." 

"But  I  must  talk  straight  now,  Merry!" 

"I'm  willing  that  you  shall  drive  ahead,  but  I  want 
you  to  hold  in  your  temper.  Don't  let  it  run  away  with 
you." 

"Great  Scott!  liow  can  I  hold  in  my  temper  node* 
such  provocation?" 


34         How  the  News  Was  Received. 

"Simply  by  holding  it  in." 

"But  you  know  how  I  hate  Badger?  You  know 
that  we're  bitter  enemies!  You  know  what  I  think  of 
him !" 

"I  think  I've  heard  you  express  some  sentiments  along 
that  line." 

"You  know  that  he  was  drunk  when  he  went  aboard 
that  excursion  steamer!  And  he  can't  pitch!" 

"You  are  wrong  there!"  Frank  declared  positively. 
"He  can  pitch." 

"Why,  Merry,  those  Hartford  fellows  will  just  put  it 
all  over  us.  I  tell  you  it  won't  do!  You  must  give  it 
up!" 

"I  suppose  you  know  why  I  promised  to  let  him 
pitch?" 

"Well,  I  haven't  heard,  but  I  can  guess.  After  you'd 
saved  him  from  drowning  himself,  and  lie  came  to  realize 
what  everything  meant,  he  came  licking  round  you,  pro- 
fessing gratitude  and  friendship,  and  all  that  sort  of 
stuff.  And  you " 

"See  here,  Hodge !"  said  Frank,  with  uncommon  stern- 
ness. "I  won't  stand  talk  like  that,  and  you  ought  to 
know  it.  I'm  your  friend,  as  I've  proved  many  times, 
but  I  can't  remain  your  friend  if  you  treat  me  that  way. 
I'm  ready  to  hear  your  opinions,  but  I  won't  stand  abuse 
from  you  or  any  other  man !" 

"I  told  you  a  good  while  ago  that  whenever  you  and 
Badger  ceased  to  be  enemies  you  would  become  friends  1" 


How  the  News  Was  Received.         25 

Bart  declared,  somewhat  softened.  "And  now  it  has 
come  true.  You  are  wanting  to  befriend  and  help  him 
now,  just  as  I  knew  you  would.  And  after  all  the  dirt 
he  has  done  you!  Why,  he's  put  dirt  all  over  you  a 
dozen  times  1" 

The  memory  of  it  caused  Bart  to  lose  his  head  again. 

"Badger  is  my  enemy!  A  man  who  is  his  friend  is 
no  friend  of  mine!  That  is  flat!  I  don't  think  I  can 
make  it  plainer." 

"You  can't;  it's  plain  enough.  Badger  is  not  my 
friend,  but  I  am  not  his  enemy." 

"Don't  tell  me,  Merriwell!  You  are  his  friend.  You 
wouldn't  ask  such  a  thing,  if  you  weren't.  You  must 
know  that  every  one  of  the  fellows  will  kick.  What  did 
you  make  such  a  fool  promise  for?" 

Merriwell's  face  was  flushed. 

"You  are  making  reckless  talk,  just  because  you  are 
badly  excited,  old  man !  I  am  sure  you  will  be  sorry  a$ 
soon  as  you  cool  off.  If  I  didn't  think  so,  I'd  say  some 
things  that  would  be  hot  enough  to  take  the  skin  off 
your  face !  Now,  listen  here !  I  have  promised  Dunstan 
Kirk  to  let  Badger  pitch  next  Saturday  in  that  game 
against  Hartford.  Kirk  thinks  it  will  brace  Badger  up 
a  little,  and  perhaps  it  will.  I  am  willing  to  help  Badger. 
He  can  pitch.  We  need  good  pitchers.  Besides,  I  have 
given  Kirk  my  promise.  I  mean  to  keep  it." 

Up  to  that  moment,  angry  and  unreasonable  as  he 
was,  Bart  had  half-believed  that  Merriwell  might  yet 


26         How  the  News  Was  Received. 

back  out  of  his  position,  and  refuse  to  let  Buck  go  into 
the  box.  He  saw  now  how  mistaken  he  had  been. 

"And  you  expect  me  to  catch  for  that  scoundrel?"  he 
demanded,  shaking  with  rage.  "I  tell  you,  Merriwell, 
I  won't  do  it!  I'll  do  any  reasonable  thing  you  want 
me  to  do,  but  I  won't  do  that!  I  draw  the  line  there, 
short  and  sharp!  I  won't  play  in  a  nine  with  Buck 
Badger!" 

"Very  well,  then,  we'll  have  to  get  along  without 
you!" 

"Do  you  mean  it,  Merry?"  Hodge  gasped.  "Do  you 
mean  that  you  will  choose  him  before  me?" 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,  and  you  ought  to  know  it.  You 
would  know  it,  if  you  were  not  just  blind  with  anger 
and  prejudice.  I  am  not  choosing  Badger  in  preference 
to  any  of  my  friends !" 

"Why  aren't  you?" 

"Because  I  am  not.  There  is  no  choosing  of  friends 
in  this.  I  have  said  Badger  shall  pitch  in  that  game. 
That  does  not  make  him  my  friend,  and  it  ought  not  to 
drive  any  of  my  friends  away.  I  am  manager  of  the 
picked  nine,  and  I  supposed  that  my  friends  who  had 
known  me  so  long  would  be  willing  that  I  should  have 
some  privileges." 

"But  when  I  declare  I  won't  catch?" 

"You  have  no  right  to  make  any  such  declaration." 

"Why  haven't  I  ?" 

"Simply  because,  as  my  friend,  you  ought  to  be  will- 


How  the  News  Was  Received.         27 

ing  to  aid  me  in  this  matter.  I  shall  not  put  it  on  any 
other  ground." 

"I'll  do  anything  for  you,  Merry,  but  that.  I  can't 
do  that!" 

"You  mean  you  will  not  do  it!" 

"I  won't  do  it!" 

'Then  I  shall  get  another  catcher  1" 

"Do  you  mean  it?" 

"I  mean  it!" 

Hodge  seemed  stunned  for  a  moment.  Then  his  rage 
boiled  over. 

"All  right,  Merry !"  he  flashed.  "If  you  want  to  favor 
a  scoundrel  like  Badger  instead  of  me,  you  can  do  it.  But 
I  will  not  catch  in  that  game.  I  refuse  to  play  on  any 
nine  with  Badger!  I " 

"I  remember  to  have  heard  you  say  those  things  be- 
fore!" said  Frank,  turning  short  about.  "We  will  not 
discuss  it  any  further,  Bart.  You  are  a  free  man.  You 
may  do  as  you  please.  I  shall  not  argue  the  matter  with 
you.  Badger  is  going  to  pitch  for  me  Saturday  fore- 
noon. Good  day!" 

Hodge  stopped  and  looked  after  him,  all  white  and 
shaky,  as  Merriwell  walked  away. 

Then  the  hot  blood  rushed  in  a  tide  into  his  dark  face, 
and  he,  too,  turned  and  walked  off,  filled  with  smothered 
exclamations  and  raging  like  a  volcano. 


PIKE'S   LITTLE  PLAN. 

Donald  Pike  was  in  a  nagging  mood.  He  walked  up 
and  down  the  room  a  few  times,  finally  stopping  in  front 
of  his  chum,  Buck  Badger.  They  had  been  talking  about 
the  Saturday  ball-game,  and  both  were  in  bad  humor. 

"I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with  you,  Badger! 
I'm  disgusted  with  you!" 

The  Westerner  shifted  his  feet  nervously,  but  said 
nothing. 

"Perhaps  you  consider  it  an  honor  to  receive  that  in- 
vitation from  Merriwell  ?  I  don't !  I  am  surprised  that 
he  sent  it." 

Badger  shifted  his  feet  again,  and  shrugged  his  thick 
shoulders.  His  face  was  flushed  and  his  eyes  looked 
troubled. 

"I  am,  too!" 

"He  had  a  motive,  of  course !" 

Badger  tossed  a  leg  over  the  arm  of  his  chair,  and 
looked  out  of  the  window. 

"It  has  been  his  boast  all  along  that  he  would  have  you 
in  his  flock  by  and  by!  You  have  always  sworn  by  all 
that's  good  and  bad  that  you  would  never  become  a 
friend  of  his!" 

"I'm  not  a  friend  of  his  1" 


Pike's  Little  Plan.  29 

Pike  laughed  sneeringly. 

"What  do  you  call  it?  If  I  say  a  word  against  Frank 
Merriwell  you  want  to  eat  me  up.  It's  come  to  that! 
You  were  ready  to  fight  him  any  minute,  at  first;  now 
you're  ready  to  lick  the  polish  off  his  shoes,  just  like  the 
rest  of  those  fellows." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind!"  Badger  hotly  declared. 

"Well,  you're  going  to  pitch  for  his  picked  team  Sat- 
urday!" 

"Kirk  asked  me  to." 

"And  Merriwell  sent  him?" 

"Yes!" 

"And  they  have  become  such  friends  that  they're  al- 
most chums.  The  fellows  are  beginning  to  say  that 
Dunstan  Kirk  manages  the  Yale  ball-team,  and  Frank 
Merriwell  manages  Dunstan  Kirk.  They  are  about  right, 
I  guess!" 

"I  allow  that  I'm  no  nearer  being  Merriwell's  chum 
than  I  ever  was.  We  could  never  be  chums.  But  I'm 
not  going  to  forget  what  he  did  for  me  on  the  Crested 
Foam.  He  saved  my  life,  then,  Pike !" 

"And  proposes  to  wind  you  round  his  fingers  and  Jrag 
you  at  his  heels  to  make  you  pay  for  it !" 

"So,  when  he  sent  me  that  invitation,  and  I  talked  it 
over  with  Kirk,  I  thought  I  ought  to  accept  it." 

"Don't  you  know  that  Hodge  will  refuse  to  catch?" 

"Don't  talk  about  him !"  Badger  hissed. 


30  Pike's  Little  Plan. 

"He  has  already  said  that  he  will  not  catch  for  such 
a  scoundrel  as  you!" 

"Did  he  say  that?" 

"He  says  you  will  lose  them  the  game;  that  it's  an 
outrage  to  put  you  into  the  box,  and  he  won't  be  a  party 
to  it.  He  says  you  can't  pitch." 

"Can't  I?    He  says  that,  does  he?" 

"He  says  that  if  Frank  Merriwell  takes  up  with  you, 
he  will  never  speak  to  him  again.  Anyhow,  what  good 
will  it  do  you  to  pitch  for  Merriwell?  You'll  be  no 
nearer  getting  a  show  on  the  regular  nine." 

Badger  shoved  his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets,  and 
showed  his  broad  white  teeth  unpleasantly.  Pike  was 
again  walking  up  and  down  the  room. 

"I'd  almost  be  willing  to  become  a  member  of  Merri- 
well's  flock  just  to  spite  Bart  Hodge.  My  hands  just 
naturally  go  up,  and  I  want  to  fight  whenever  I  see  him. 
That's  whatever!" 

"Oh,  you  two  will  be  as  chummy  as  the  Siamese  twins 
in  less  than  a  month." 

"Never !    I  hate  him  too  badly." 

"That's  the  way  you  were  talking  of  Merriwell  a 
month  ago.  You  will  come  round  to  it !" 

"Not  on  your  life!  Hodge  is  a  different  sort  of  fel- 
low from  Merriwell,  I  allow." 

"And  you  are  going1  to  accept  that  invitation  ?" 

"I  told  you,   Pike,  that  I  have  already  accepted  it. 


Pike's  Little  Plan.  31 

I'm  not  Merriwell's  friend,  and  I  despise  Bart  Hodge; 
but  I'm  not  ungrateful.  Whatever  other  things  we  learn 
out  West,  we  learn  to  pay  back  favor  for  favor.  I'd  be 
a  dirty  coyote  if  I  refused  to  accept  that  invitation  after 
what  Merriwell  did  for  me.  That's  the  way  I  look  at  it. 
I  know  that  I  can  pitch  ball.  You  know  it,  too.  I  can 
twirl  a  ball  just  as  good  as  Frank  Merriwell,  or  any  other 
fellow  in  Yale,  and  you  know  that,  too.  I  reckon  I'm 
able  to  ride  my  bronco  alone,  without  Merriwell's  help. 
I  am  not  asking  favors — none  whatever !  I'm  simply  re- 
turning a  favor  already  given!  You  can  see  through 
that,  can't  you?  If  you  can't,  you're  as  chuckle-headed 
as  a  prairie-dog !" 

"I  can  see  that  you  are  becoming  Frank  Merriwell's 
friend  just  as  fast  as  you  can!" 

"You're  riding  away  off  the  line,  Pike !  I  shall  never 
be  Merry's  friend  in  the  sense  you  think.  But  you  know 
that  he  is  the  clean  white  article.  He  is  straight  goods. 
I've  found  that  out.  I  used  to  think  different,  just  as  you 
do,  but  I've  found  out  I  was  mistaken.  He  is  a  square 
man.  And  when  he  sent  that  invitation  I  knew  there  was 
no  underhand  business  about  it  whatever.  That's  the 
reason  I  accepted  it;  that  and  because  it  would  have 
made  me  feel  meaner  than  a  Digger  Indian  if  I  had  re- 
fused it  I'm  going  to  pitch  for  him  Saturday  fore- 
noon, and  I'll  win  that  game  for  him,  too.  Don't  you  let 
that  fact  escape  your  memory !  I  hope  Bart  Hodge  will 
refuse  to  catch.  I'm  afraid  I  couldn't  resist  the  tempta- 


32  Pike's  Little  Plan. 

tion  to  throw  the  ball  square  at  his  head  every  time,  if 
he  was  behind  the  bat.  I  want  him  to  stay  out !" 

"Well,  you're  a  fool!"  Pike  snapped,  striding  toward 
the  door.  "I  never  thought  you'd  do  a  thing  like  that. 
You  are  no  more  like  the  old  Badger  than  a  calf  is  like 
a  mountain-lion.  You  had  some  fire  in  you  once,  but  you 
have  become  as  soft  as  a  ninny.  The  whole  thing  simply 
makes  me  sick." 

Badger's  face  was  red  and  his  neck  veins  were 
swelling. 

"I'm  not  used  to  any  such  talk  whatever,  Pike!"  he 
exclaimed,  as  Pike  hurled  these  sentences  back  at  him 
from  the  doorway.  "If  you  say  anything  like  that  again 
I'll  kick  you  down-stairs!  I've  taken  more  off  of  you 
to-night  than  I  ever  thought  I  could  take  from  any  one, 
and  I  won't  stand  it  any  longer!" 

"Cool  off,  old  man !"  Pike  sneered.  "You're  making  a 
chuckle-headed  prairie-dog  out  of  yourself,  I  think.  If 
you  should  kick  me  you  would  kick  the  best  friend  you 
ever  had.  Good-by.  See  you  later!" 

The  Westerner  did  not  even  grunt  a  reply,  but  sat  still 
in  his  chair  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  his  eyes  glit- 
tering, his  broad  teeth  showing,  his  neck  veins  protuber- 
ant and  his  face  as  red  as  a  boiled  lobster,  while  Pike 
walked  away. 

When  Pike  came  back  to  the  room  Badger  was  gone. 
Pike  entered  *rith  his  own  key.  He  knew  that  the 
Westerner  would  likely  be  away  a  number  of  hours, 


Pike's  Little  Plan.  33 

calling  on  Winnie  Lee.  He  glanced  round  the  room, 
then  went  to  the  closet  in  which  Badger's  clothing 
hung. 

Pike  was  crafty  in  his  hate.  He  did  not  intend  to  lose 
his  grip  of  the  Kansan.  He  realized  that  he  had  gone  al- 
most too  far.  Badger  would  bear  a  good  deal  from  him 
because  of  what  they  had  been  to  each  other,  but  to  this 
there  were  limits.  He  felt  that  he  had  nearly  reached  the 
limit. 

"He  shall  not  pitch  ball  Saturday,  if  I  can  help  it!" 
he  hissed,  as  he  looked  over  the  things  in  the  closet.  "If 
I  can  work  it,  it  will  make  Hodge  so  hot  against  him 
that  there  will  be  a  fight.  And  perhaps  it  will  turn  Mer- 
riwell  and  his  precious  flock  against  him,  too.  It's  risky, 
but  it  is  worth  all  the  risk." 

He  took  out  a  suit  of  Badger's  clothes,  and  laid  it  in  a 
chair.  Then  he  went  to  a  desk  and  selected  from  it  some 
"make-up"  preparations  which  had  been  there  ever  since 
the  production  of  the  sophomore  play,  "A  Mountain  Ven- 
detta." Then,  after  locking  the  door,  he  arrayed  him- 
self in  Badger's  suit,  and,  standing  before  the  mirror,  ap- 
plied the  preparations  to  his  face,  forehead,  and  eye- 
brows. 

Pike  had  a  good  deal  of  artistic  skill  in  such  matters, 
and  in  a  short  time  he  had  darkened  his  face,  blackened 
his  brows  and  drawn  certain  lines  and  colors,  that,  to- 
gether with  the  change  produced  by  the  clothing,  made 


34  Pike's  Little  Plan. 

him  resemble  Badger  in  a  remarkable  manner.  When 
he  put  on  Badger's  hat  the  alteration  seemed  complete. 

"Of  course,  that  wouldn't  stand  close  inspection,"  he 
muttered.  "But  there  will  be  no  close  inspection.  I  shall 
look  out  for  that.  Now  for  the  voice!" 

He  bunched  up  his  shoulders  to  give  them  a  thick 
look,  cleared  his  throat,  and  looking  straight  at  himself 
in  the  glass,  began  to  imitate  Badger's  tones  and  char- 
acteristics of  speech,  speaking  so  low,  however,  that  there 
was  no  danger  of  being  heard  by  any  one  who  might 
chance  to  pass. 

"I  allow  that  I'm  a  Kansan  from  away  beyond  the 
Kaw,  and  I  reckon  I'm  a  diamond  pure  without  the 
slightest  flaw!  Sure!  A  genuine  prairie-dog  from  the 
short-grass  country  couldn't  chatter  more  like  a  West- 
erner than  that.  That  would  fool  Badger  himself. 
That's  whatever !  Yes,  I  reckon.  My  daddy  is  a  rancher, 
and  I  allow  that  I  am  great;  for  my  home  is  on  the 
boundless  plains  of  the  wonderful  Sunflower  State !  If  I 
should  practise,  I  reckon  I  could  become  a  poet !" 

Satisfied  with  his  make-up  and  his  abilities  to  imitate 
Badger's  tone  and  language,  Donald  Pike  returned  the 
unused  articles  to  the  drawer,  put  away  the  clothing  he 
had  removed,  and  then  sneaked  down  into  the  campus, 
carrying  under  his  coat  a  long,  stout  cord.  Keeping 
away  from  the  electric  lamps  and  other  lights  he  slipped 
stealthily  on  until  he  reached  the  entrance  which  led  to 
the  rooms  occupied  by  Merriwell  and  Hodge. 


Pike's  Little  Plan.  35 

Diamond  and  Browning  came  down,  talking  in  low 
tones  of  Merry  and  Bart,  and  from  this  talk,  Pike,  who 
had  withdrawn  into  the  shadows,  learned  that  both 
Hodge  and  Frank  were  out  in  town  somewhere.  This 
suited  Pike's  plans,  and  when  Diamond  and  Bruce  dis- 
appeared, he  crawled  into  the  shadow  of  a  column  and 
watched  the  path  along  which  Hodge  and  Merriwell 
would  come  on  their  return. 

"They'll  not  come  back  together,  sure,  unless  all  the 
stories  I've  heard  are  lies;  for  they're  not  on  speaking 
terms!"  he  reflected.  "The  only  thing  I  fear  is  that 
Hodge  may  not  care  to  come  to  his  rooms  at  all." 

The  thought  made  him  uneasy,  and  caused  the  vigil 
which  followed  to  appear  torturingly  long. 

"Ah !  there  he  is !"  he  whispered,  at  last. 

Slipping  across  the  path,  he  tied  an  end  of  the  cord 
he  had  brought  to  a  post,  then  retreated  into  the  shadow 
and  tied  the  other  end  about  the  column.  The  youth 
he  had  seen  came  on  at  a  brisk  walk.  Pike  was  sure  it 
was  Hodge.  He  almost  ceased  to  breathe  as  the  unsus- 
pecting young  fellow  approached  the  cord.  He  put  him- 
self in  position  for  a  hasty  spring. 

Crash ! 

The  youth  tripped  over  the  string,  and  went  down 
headlong,  falling  heavily. 

"I  reckon  I've  got  you  now!"  Pike  hissed  in  a  low 
tone,  imitating  Badger's  voice,  and  at  the  same  time  leap- 
ing toward  the  prostrate  form.  Deceived  by  the  dark- 


36  Pike's  Little  Plan. 

ness,  Donald  Pike  had  tripped  Frank  Merriwell,  but  he 
did  not  yet  know  it.  With  that  imitation  of  the  West- 
erner's speech,  he  knocked  Merriwell  down,  as  the  latter 
tried  to  get  up. 

Again  he  struck,  as  Frank  attempted  to  rise,  but  Mer- 
riwell dodged  the  blow,  and,  catching  Pike  by  the  legs, 
threw  him.  Before  Pike  could  realize  what  had  hap- 
pened, Merriwell  was  on  top,  with  his  fingers  at  Pike's 
throat. 

"You  scoundrel!"  Frank  hissed.  "I  am  tempted  to 
give  you  what  you  deserve  for  that !" 

But  Pike  was  not  ready  to  surrender,  though  he  knew 
now  that  he  had  committed  a  woful  blunder.  In  fact, 
the  knowledge  that  he  was  dealing  with  Frank  Merriwell 
aroused  him  to  a  fierce  resistance.  He  felt  that  it  would 
simply  be  ruinous  to  be  held  and  recognized  by  Merri- 
well, and  he  began  to  fight  like  a  demon  to  get  away. 

He  freed  his  hands,  and  struck  Frank  heavily  in  the 
face,  at  the  same  time  kicking  with  all  his  might.  He 
tried  to  thrust  his  thumbs  into  Frank's  eyes. 

"I'll  kill  you,  if  you  don't  let  me  go !"  he  snarled. 

Frank  had  felt  from  the  first  that  his  assailant  could 
not  be  Buck  Badger;  now  he  recognized  the  voice  of 
Donald  Pike,  for  Pike,  in  his  fright  and  desperation,  for- 
got to  keep  up  the  disguise. 

Seeing  that  the  only  way  to  deal  with  Pike  was  to 
choke  him  into  semi-insensibility,  he  caught  and  crushed 
down  the  flailing  fists  and  arms  and  tightened  his  grip 


Pike's  Little  Plan.  37 

on  Pike's  throat.  Pike  writhed  and  flounced,  kicking 
and  struggling,  but  all  without  avail.  That  viselike  grip 
grew  tighter  and  tighter.  The  pain  seemed  unbearable. 
He  gurgled  and  choked,  and  his  lungs  seemed  to  be 
bursting.  He  could  not  breathe,  and  his  brain  began 
to  reel. 

"Give  in?"  Frank  asked. 

"Don't  k-k-k-ill  me!"  Pike  gasped,  as  the  grip  on  his 
throat  relaxed. 

"You  deserve  it,  you  scoundrel!" 

Frank  took  his  knee  from  Pike's  breast,  removed  the 
choking  hand,  and  flung  Pike  from  him. 

"Now  get  up !"  he  commanded.  "Get  up  before  I  am 
tempted  to  kick  you  across  the  campus !" 

Pike  shuffled  and  evaded,  as  his  breath  came  back. 

"I  thought  you  were  Badger,  and  I  was  just  playing 
a  little  joke  on  you!"  he  whined. 

"Get  up!"  Frank  exclaimed. 

Pike  struggled  up,  and  Merriwell  jerked  him  toward 
the  nearest  light.  He  saw  the  "make-up,"  and  recognized 
the  clothes  as  some  he  had  seen  on  the  Kansan. 

"What  were  you  up  to  ?"  he  demanded,  with  threaten- 
ing emphasis.  He  saw  forms  moving  in  the  campus,  and 
he  did  not  want  to  tarry  with  Pike. 

"Just  a  little  sport!"  Pike  whined.  He  was  com- 
pletely crushed. 

"You  lie,  Donald  Pike!  You  had  some  object.  I  can 
almost  guess  what  it  was.  You  imitated  Badger's  voice 


38  Pike's  Little  Plan. 

and  way  of  speaking,  when  you  jumped  on  me.  You  are 
wearing  Badger's  clothing.  That  make-up  is  intended 
to  lead  any  one  who  sees  you  into  thinking  you  were 
Buck  Badger.  You  wanted  to  make  me  believe  that 
Badger  had  assaulted  me." 

"Just  a  joke!"  Pike  pleaded.  "Merriwell,  I  didn't 
mean  anything,  only  to  have  a  bit  of  sport.  That  is  hon- 
est. I  didn't  know  it  was  you." 

"Ah!  That  last  sounds  as  if  you  meant  it.  I  hardly 
think  you  did  know  who  you  were  tackling.  I  think  I 
shall  take  you  over  to  Badger's  room,  and  let  him  see 
you  just  as  you  are.  Come  along!" 

Pike  was  not  anxious  to  be  seen  by  the  men  who  were 
crossing  the  campus,  so  he  moved  along,  with  Frank  at 
his  side. 

Frank  was  thinking  rapidly,  in  an  effort  to  understand 
Pike's  motives. 

"I  want  to  know  why  you  leaped  on  me  in  that  cow- 
ardly way,  and  struck  me  when  I  was  down.  You 
wouldn't  have  served  Badger  that  way !  And  if  you 
wanted  to  have  a  little  fun  with  Badger,  you  would  not 
have  disguised  yourself  and  imitated  his  way  of  speak- 
ing. That  story  don't  go  with  me,  Pike !" 

Pike  was  watching  for  a  chance  to  escape,  intending 
to  make  a  dash  for  liberty  at  the  first  opportunity. 

"You  are  disguised  as  Badger.  Badger  would  not  as- 
sault me  that  way,  for  Badger  is  a  man !  But  you  wanted 


Pike's  Little  Plan.  39 

to  make  some  one  think  he  had  been  assaulted  by  Badger. 
That  one  must  be  Bart  Hodge !" 

Pike  started  to  run,  but  Frank  caught  him  by  the  col- 
lar, and  jerked  him  back. 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry,  Pike !  I've  seen  you  through  and 
through  for  some  time,  and  understand  your  little  game 
of  this  evening." 

Donald  Pike  walked  on  for  a  time  peaceably  enough, 
but  he  was  only  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  break 
away.  Again  he  fancied  the  opportunity  had  come.  But 
no  sooner  did  he  start  than  Frank  tripped  him,  and  he 
fell  sprawling.  Before  he  could  get  up,  Frank's  hand 
was  on  his  collar. 

He  made  another  fierce  struggle  as  soon  as  he  was  on 
his  feet,  only  to  discover  that  he  was  as  helpless  as  a 
child  in  the  hands  of  Frank  Merriwell.  He  had  never 
dreamed  that  Merriwell  was  possessed  of  such  strength 
and  skill. 

The  shadows  were  heavier  at  this  point,  and  Mer- 
riwell kept  a  grip  on  Pike's  collar. 

"See  here,  Pike !"  he  exclaimed.  "If  you  try  anything 
of  that  kind  again  I  shall  simply  knock  you  down.  You 
are  going  with  me,  if  I  have  to  tie  and  drag  you.  So  you 
might  as  well  come  along  quietly  and  save  trouble." 

"I  shall  have  you  arrested  for  this!"  Pike  blustered, 
now  that  whining  and  begging  and  fighting  had  failed. 

"Do!  I  think  your  friends  would  enjoy  hearing  the 
story  of  your  remarkable  masquerade  told  in  court.  Go 


40  Pike's  Little  Plan. 

ahead  with  the  proceedings,  Donald.  Just  now  you  are 
going  with  me,  regardless  of  the  after  consequences." 

Pike  caught  at  a  post,  but  Merriwell  jerked  him  away 
from  it,  and  then  hurried  him  rapidly  on  in  the  direction 
of  Badger's  room.  Pike  was  sure  Badger  was  not  in, 
and  began  to  think  that  he  might  save  himself  bruises 
and  rough  treatment  by  apparent  acquiescence. 

"I  will  go  with  you,"  he  finally  panted,  "but  under 
protest.  And  I  shall  make  you  sorry  for  this  outrage. 
You  have  no  right  to  treat  me  thus." 

Merriwell  did  not  answer,  but  kept  a  hand  on  Pike's 
collar  while  he  conducted  him  up  the  stairs.  To  Pike's 
consternation,  Buck  Badger  was  in  the  room  and  the 
door  was  open. 

Before  Pike  could  quite  make  up  his  mind  to  try  again 
to  escape,  Merriwell  had  bundled  him  through  the  door- 
way. 

Badger  scrambled  up. 

"There  is  your  friend !"  said  Merriwell,  pointing  a 
finger  accusingly  at  Pike,  who  was  too  confused  and 
humiliated  to  speak.  "He  disguised  himself  that  way, 
and  attacked  me  awhile  ago  near  my  room,  thinking  I 
was  Bart  Hodge.  He  has  found  out  his  mistake.  He 
wanted  to  make  Hodge  think  that  you  had  done  the  dirty 
work,  so  that  you  and  Hodge  would  lock  horns  the  first 
time  you  met,  and  there  would  be  trouble  as^ain  all 
around  the  camp.  He  is  a  contemptible  and  cowardly 
puppy,  and  I  feel  that  I  have  soiled  my  hands  by  touch- 


Pike's  Little  Plan.  41 

ing  him.  But  I  wanted  you  to  see  him  in  that  rig,  and 
know  him  as  he  is." 

A  fierce  denial  was  on  the  lips  of  Donald  Pike,  but  he 
had  not  the  courage  to  utter  it.  He  saw  that  something 
more  than  denials  would  be  necessary  to  explain  mat- 
ters. The  Westerner  was  as  speechless  as  Pike,  and 
Merriwell  turned  away. 

"I  reckon  we'll  have  a  little  explanation  of  this,  Pike !" 
were  the  words  Merry  heard  as  he  reached  the  head  of 
the  stairs.  They  were  spoken  in  an  awesome  tone  of 
voice,  and  came  from  Badger's  lips. 

Then  the  door  closed  with  a  bang,  and  he  knew  that 
the  Kansan  had  barred  the  way  of  Pike's  escape  from  the 
room.  The  next  morning  Frank  received  this  note: 

"MR.  FRANK  MERRIWELL:  Pike  and  I  had  a  settle- 
ment last  night.  He  tried  to  lie  out  of  the  thing,  but  I 
made  him  confess  to  the  whole  truth.  Then  I  kicked 
him  down-stairs.  We  are  not  rooming  together  any 
more  whatever.  BUCK  BADGER." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

AT  THE   HOME  OF   WINNIE  LEE. 

Frank  Merriwell  seemed  the  personification  of  spring 
as  he  approached  the  residence  of  Fairfax  Lee,  the  next 
afternoon.  Spring  is  the  time  when  the  wine  of  life 
flows  warm  through  the  veins  of  Nature.  Its  face  holds 
the  bloom  of  youth  and  the  smile  of  hope.  Its  heart  is 
all  aglow  with  the  joy  of  living.  The  golden  summer  is 
before  it;  and  it  has  no  dead  past,  for  the  winter  seems 
to  belong  to  the  year  that  has  gone. 

A  handsomer  specimen  of  young  manhood  could  not 
have  been  found.  The  flowering  spray  in  his  buttonhole 
seemed  part  of  the  jaunty  new  suit  which  so  became  him. 
He  was  clean-looking  and  energetically  wholesome. 
From  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  soles  of  his  feet  he 
was  nattily  neat,  yet  he  was  as  far  from  being  dudish  in 
appearance  as  it  is  possible  for  one  to  be.  He  looked  to 
be  what  he  was — strong,  and  lithe-limbed,  almost  physic- 
ally perfect,  with  a  handsome,  intelligent  face,  hopeful, 
courageous  heart,  and  active  brain. 

Yet  many  things  had  come  to  trouble  him  in  the  past 
twenty-four  hours,  even  though  his  bright  face  showed 
not  a  trace  of  their  annoying  effect.  Chief  of  these 
things,  of  course,  was  the  defection  of  Bart  Hodge. 


At  the  Home  of  Winnie  Lee.          43 

Hodge  had  gone  away  stubbornly  angry,  and  Merriwell 
had  not  seen  him  since  the  moment  of  parting. 

Every  member  of  the  "flock"  was  hot  against  Hodge, 
and  had  not  hesitated  to  speak  plainly.  Hodge's  rebel- 
lious spirit  had  rallied  them  round  Merriwell  as  one  man. 
Browning  and  Diamond  had  even  argued  that  he  ought 
not  to  be  longer  recognized  as  a  member  of  Merriwell's 
set.  The  only  one  who  had  ventured  to  stand  up  for 
him,  aside  from  Merriwell  himself,  was  Harry  Rattleton. 
Frank  had  defended  him  to  the  last,  insisting  that  allow- 
ances should  be  made  for  the  peculiarities  of  Bart's 
disposition,  and  asserting  that  he  would  be  found  all  right 
in  the  end. 

Frank  was  thinking  of  all  this  as  he  drew  near  the 
home  of  Winnie  Lee.  His  intention  was  to  call  on  Inza 
and  have  a  talk  with  her  about  the  'Varsity  boat-races  at 
New  London  in  June,  for  Inza  was  the  "mascot"  of  the 
Yale  crew  that  was  to  meet  Harvard  at  New  London. 
In  addition,  he  expected  to  inform  her  and  her  friends 
of  the  arrangements  made  for  the  ball-game  with  Hart- 
ford on  Saturday. 

He  looked  about  him  after  he  had  tripped  lightly  tip 
the  steps  and  rang  the  bell.  The  Lee  home  was  in  a 
fashionable  and  exclusive  part  of  New  Haven,  and  the 
spacious  grounds  were  beginning  to  take  on  beauty  and 
color  under  the  reviving  influences  of  spring.  A  foun- 
tain, shot  through  with  rainbow  hues,  was  spraying  a 


44          At  the  Home  of  Winnie  Lee. 

marble  sprite,  while  a  rheumatic  gardener  troweled  round 
the  rim  of  a  loamy  flower-bed. 

Winnie,  who  had  observed  Merriwell's  approach,  came 
to  the  door  herself  to  admit  him. 

"Oh,  you  didn't  come  to  see  me?"  she  asked,  when  he> 
inquired  for  Inza. 

"That  would  be  pleasant  enough,  but  it  wouldn't  do  to 
make  Buck  jealous!" 

He  laughed  in  his  cheery  way. 

"I  don't  think  it  would  be  easy  to  make  him  jealous 
of  you  now,"  she  answered.  "And  I'm  so  glad  he  is  to 
pitch  for  you  Saturday !  I  want  to  thank  you  for  that, 
myself.  It  was  just  like  you  to  send  such  an  invitation."1 

Merriwell's  eyes  dropped  under  her  earnest  look.  He. 
dared  not  tell  her  just  then  that  the  invitation  had  been 
procured  by  Dunstan  Kirk. 

"Who  told  you  he  is  to  pitch  Saturday?" 

"Why,  he  told  me  so  this  morning  himself." 

"And,  of  course,  you  have  told  Elsie  and  Inza?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  want  to  see  Inza,  and  have  a  talk  with  her, 
about  the  New  London  races.  So  I  think  I  will  take  a  car; 
for  Mrs.  Moran's." 

Winnie  had  informed  him  that  both  Inza  and  Elsie 
had  gone  on  an  errand  of  mercy  to  the  home  of  the 
grandmother  of  Barney  Lynn. 

"And  you  won't  come  in,  even  a  little  while?  You 
prefer  their  society  to  mine,  I  see!  I  am  ashamed  of 


At  the  Home  of  Winnie  Lee.          45 

you,  Frank  Merriwelll  You  are  not  as  gallant  as  you 
used  to  be." 

Her  voice  was  merry  and  her  heart  light. 

"Some  other  afternoon  or  evening  I  shall  be  glad  to 
come  in  and  talk  you  to  death.  Just  now  I  am  pressed 
for  time." 

"I  ought  to  have  gone  down  there  with  them,"  she 
confessed.  "But  it  seemed  that  I  couldn't  get  away. 
Frank,  you  don't  know  what  angels  of  mercy  those  girls 
have  been!  Elsie  found  out  that  Mrs.  Moran  was 
starving  and  dying  by  inches  for  lack  of  proper  food  and 
medicines,  and  since  then  she  and  Inza  have  been  down 
there  every  day,  and  often  two  or  three  times  a  day." 

"I  trust  they  don't  venture  after  nightfall !" 

Frank  was  thinking  of  a  fight  Jack  Ready  had  while 
rescuing  Elsie  from  the  drunken  ruffian,  Jim  Raskins. 

Then  he  thanked  Winnie  for  her  invitation,  said  good- 
by,  and  hurried  away  to  catch  the  first  car  going  in  the 
direction  which  he  wished  to  take. 

"I  hope  Badger  is  entirely  worthy  of  her,"  he  thought, 
his  mind  on  Winnie  Lee.  "She  is  a  fine  girl,  and  if  he 
gets  her  he  will  get  a  prize.  Now,  if  they  don't  pass 
me,  coming  back  in  another  car!  Winnie  hasn't  the  least 
idea  that  Buck  was  intoxicated  when  he  went  aboard 
the  Crested  Foam,  and  she  shall  never  know  it  from 
me!" 

Neither  of  the  girls  heard  Merriwell's  gentle  rap  on 
Mrs.  Moran's  door,  and  he  pushed  into  the  house  with- 


46          At  the   Home  of  Winnie  Lee. 

out  further  ceremony,  feeling  sure  that  they  were  busy 
in  caring  for  the  old  lady  or  that  her  condition  was  such 
that  they  could  not  leave  her.  Then,  looking  through  the 
doorway  at  the  right  of  the  corridor,  his  gaze  fell  on  a 
pleasant  sight. 

The  girls  were  seated  by  the  bed,  Elsie  holding  one  of 
Mrs.  Moran's  wasted  hands  in  her  own  warm  palms, 
while  Inza  was  reading  to  the  old  woman  from  a  little 
copy  of  the  New  Testament. 

Merriwell  stopped  for  a  moment,  for  his  entrance  had 
been  unnoticed.  Somehow,  the  pathos  of  the  scene  inex- 
pressibly touched  him. 

"They  are  angels  of  mercy,  just  as  Winnie  said !"  was 
his  thought. 

Inza  had  an  excellent  reading  voice,  as  pure  and  liquid 
as  falling  water.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  listen  to  it.  Frank 
had  often  heard  her  read,  but  it  seemed  to  him  never  with 
such  expression  as  at  that  moment.  The  sunlight,  fall- 
ing through  the  small  west  window,  illuminated  her  face, 
making  it  almost  radiant,  and  touched  with  brighter  tints 
Elsie's  crown  of  golden  hair. 

"I  wish  I  were  a  painter !"  he  thought.  "I  should  like 
to  preserve  that  scene.  If  I  could  have  that  to  hang  in 
my  room,  it  would  be  like  a  flash  of  sunshine  to  look  at. 
But  no  painter  could  do  it  justice.  There  are  certain 
things  that  can't  be  painted,  and  this  is  one  of  them." 

He  noisily  shifted  his  feet  to  call  attention  to  his  pres- 


At  the  Home  of  Winnie  Lee.         47 

ence,  and  Inza  looked  up.  The  color  flooded  her  cheeks, 
and  her  dark  eyes  showed  surprise. 

"Why,  Frank!"  she  gasped.  "How  did  you  come  to 
be  here?" 

Elsie  also  started  up. 

"How  did  you  get  in?"  she  asked. 

"Opened  the  door  and  walked  in.  You  were  so  busy 
you  didn't  hear  my  knock,  so  I  just  took  the  liberty." 

Mrs.  Moran  stirred,  and  turning  feebly,  looked  at 
him,  her  eyes  showing  recognition. 

"I  am  very  glad  to  see  you !"  she  whispered,  as  he  ad- 
vanced toward  the  bed,  and  she  stretched  out  one  of  the 
feeble  hands.  "Sometimes  I  think  that  I  am  not  long 
for  this  world.  I  should  have  died  here,  I  feel  sure,  if  it 
had  not  been  for  these  girls.  And  your  other  friend, 
Miss  Winnie,  has  been  very  good,  too!  I  hope  you  are 
quite  well,  Mr.  Merriwell!" 

"Quite  well!  Don't  let  me  disturb  you.  Inza  was 
reading  to  you.  Let  her  go  on.  I  will  sit  here  in  this 
chair." 

So  Inza  read  again,  until  the  old  woman  was  tired; 
after  which  the  trio  left  the  house,  and  walked  down  to 
the  car  line,  where  they  took  a  car  for  the  residence  of 
the  Honorable  Fairfax  Lee. 

"I  went  to  Lee's  to  see  you,"  Fiank  explained,  "for  I 
wanted  to  talk  over  some  details  of  the  trip  to  New  Lon- 
don and  the  June  races.  The  mascot  of  the  crew  hasn't 


48         At  the  Home  of  Winnie  Lee. 

been  down  to  the  boat-house  this  week.  And  I  wanted 
to  invite  both  of  you,  and  Winnie,  to  the  ball-game  Sat- 
urday forenoon." 

"I  am  sorry  about  Bart!"  Inza  exclaimed.  "But  he 
will  come  round  all  right,  don't  you  think?" 

"He  may  not  play  in  this  game,  but  he  will  see  how 
foolish  he  is,  and  be  heartily  ashamed  of  it  by  and  by." 

"Who  is  to  catch  for  you,  then  ?" 

"Jack  Ready!" 

"What?" 

"Perhaps  you  haven't  seen  Ready  catch?  He  is  a 
good  one !" 

"You  need  a  strong  battery,  Frank !"  Elsie  asserted. 

"Yes,  like  you  and  Hodge,"  nodded  Inza.  "I'm  afraid 
Badger  and  Ready  will  not  be  able  to  work  well  to- 
gether. They  haven't  played  together  before,  I  believe?" 

Inza  was  full  of  bright,  snappy  conversation,  as  they 
sped  homeward  in  the  car  with  Merriwell.  But  Elsie 
was  unusually  silent. 

"She  can't  get  Mrs.  Moran  out  of  her  mind,"  Frank 
thought. 

He  left  them  at  the  door,  for  the  hour  had  grown  so 
late  that  he  felt  he  could  not  just  then  spare  the  time  to 
go  into  the  house,  much  as  he  wanted  to  do  so.  Inza  and 
Elsie  went  up-stairs  together.  Winnie  was  out  or  in 
another  part  of  the  house. 

Inza  shrugged  her  shapely  shoulders. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Elsie,  dear?" 


At  the  Home  of  Winnie   Lee.         49 

Elsie's  lips  were  quivering  as  she  faced  round  and  con- 
fronted her  friend. 

"You  ought  to  know  what  is  the  matter,  Inza  Bur- 
rage!"  she  declared. 

"I'm  not  the  seventh  daughter  of  a  seventh  daughter," 
said  Inza,  a  bit  defiantly.  "How  should  I  know  ?" 

"You  do  know !" 

"I  should  say  that  you  are  showing  a  bit  of  jealousy, 
if  pressed  for  an  answer." 

"And  haven't  I  a  right  to  be  jealous,  Inza?"  Elsie 
demanded. 

"Haven't  I  a  right  to  talk  to  Frank  Merriwell  and  be 
nice  to  him,  if  I  want  to?" 

"Of  course,  Inza,  but — well — you  know " 

"It  seems  to  me,  Elsie,  that  you  came  between  Frank 
and  me  once !  Isn't  it  so  ?  Frank  cared  for  me  before  he 
ever  did  for  you.  You  came  between  us.  I  haven't 
come  between  you  and  Frank  yet,  but  if  I  should  do  so 
would  it  be  any  worse  than  what  you  did?" 

"Oh,  I  thought  that  was  past!"  cried  Elsie,  flushing 
and  trembling.  "You  never  understood  me,  Inza!" 

"And  do  you  fancy  for  a  moment  that  you  understand 
me?" 

"Perhaps  not;  but  I  can  see — I'm  not  blind!" 

"Oh,  yes,  jealous  people  can  see  things  that  no  one 
else  can,"  laughed  Inza,  with  a  provoking  toss  of  her 
proud  head. 

"Do  you  want  to  make  me  hate  you  forever,  Inza 


jo         At  the  Home  of  Winnie  Lee. 

Burrage?"  Elsie  cried.  "You  hurt  me!  You  are  heart- 
less !" 

A  sudden  look  of  deep  pain  shone  in  Inza's  face,  chan- 
ging her  manner  in  a  twinkling,  and  she  turned  away  as 
if  trying  to  conceal  it. 

"Of  course,  nothing  ever  hurts  me !"  she  said  bitterly. 
"I  am  steel  and  iron,  and  all  that!  Your  heart  is  ten- 
der, and  such  things  hurt  you!" 

Elsie  did  not  know  what  to  say.  She  had  tried  to  feel 
for  a  time  that  Inza  had  ceased  to  care  for  Frank,  and 
then  had  told  herself  that  Inza  had  no  longer  any  right 
to  care  for  him.  She  was  beginning  to  realize  that  ques- 
tions of  right  and  wrong  cut  very  little  figure  in  affairs 
of  the  heart — that,  in  fact,  love  obeys  no  such  laws. 

When  Inza  turned  back,  her  face  had  lost  its  trace  of 
pain. 

"Elsie,"  she  said,  "we  will  not  quarrel  about  Frank, 
for  Frank's  sake.  It  would  distress  him  if  he  knew  it. 
He  must  never  know  it.  Promise  me  that  you  will  not 
say  a  word  to  him  about  it." 

"Of  course  I  won't  say  anything  about  it,"  Elsie 
agreed.  "I  should  fear  to,  and  I  shouldn't  want  to." 

"Then  we'll  keep  it  to  ourselves.  You  have  discovered 
that  I  haven't  ceased  to  care  for  Frank  Merriwell.  Per- 
haps I  never  shall.  But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there." 

The  old  wave  of  jealousy  swept  across  the  tortured 
soul  of  Elsie  Bellwood. 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  intend  to  win  him  if  you  can, 


At  the  Home  of  Winnie  Lee.         51 

after  you  have  told  me  that  you  surrender  all  claim  oa 
him?" 

"I  haven't  said  anything  of  the  kind.  But  I  claim 
the  right  and  privilege  of  talking  to  him  and  with  him 
as  much  as  I  please.  You  and  he  are  not  engaged,  even 
if  he  has  seemed  to  prefer  you.  He  may  change  his 
mind,  just  as  he  did  before,  but  remember  that  I'm  not 
trying  to  get  him  to !" 

"Then  you  do  intend  to  try  to  win  him  ?" 

"My  dear,  you  must  recognize  the  fact  that  Frank  is 
the  one  to  do  the  winning.  I  shall  never  run  after  any 
man." 

Elsie's  blue  eyes  flashed. 

"Do  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  I  would?" 

"I  thought  we  weren't  going  to  quarrel !" 

The  look  of  pain  came  back  into  the  dark,  handsome 
face,  and  this  time  Elsie  saw  it.  A  feeling  of  remorse 
began  to  tug  at  her  heart. 

"I  am  not  worthy  of  Frank  Merriwell,"  she  said  softly. 
"I  know  that.  But  I  thought " 

"You  thought  nothing  could  hurt  me!" 

"No,  not  that.  I  thought  he  was  to  be  mine,  and  re- 
cently that  hope  has  been  slipping  through  my  fingers.  I 
can't  tell  you,  Inza,  how  I  have  felt." 

"I  can  understand !"  said  the  dark-haired  girl.  "I  have 
good  cause  to  understand!" 

"I  know  that  really  you  are  more  worthy  of  him, 
Inza,  than  I  am.  I  have  always  thought  that,  when  1 


52         At  the  Home  of  Winnie  Lee. 

wasn't  crazy  with  the  fear  that  you  might  win  him  away 
from  me.  But  I  just  can't  surrender  my  claim,  slender 
as  you  think  it!" 

"For  Frank's  sake,"  repeated  Inza,  "we  will  not  quar- 
rel about  him !  As  for  these  other  questions " 

Winnie's  light  step  was  heard  in  the  hall,  and  the 
sentence  died  unfinished. 


CHAPTER  V. 
HODGE'S  REPENTANCE. 

Bart  Hodge  absented  himself  from  class  and  lecture, 
but  later  that  night,  after  all  the  members  of  the  "flock" 
had  departed  from  Merriwell's  room,  Bart  came  in.  His 
face  was  flushed  and  feverish. 

"I  don't  care  what  the  other  fellows  think,  Merry !"  he 
said,  dropping  into  a  chair  as  if  he  felt  that  he  had  no 
right  there.  "But  I  do  care  what  you  think !  I  went 
away  in  a  huff,  saying1  to  myself  that  I'd  never  come 
back  until  you  sent  for  me,  when  I  knew  that  you 
wouldn't  send  for  me,  and  that  I  would  come  back.  And 
here  I  am." 

"How  could  I  have  sent  for  you,  Bart?"  Merry  ques- 
tioned. "I  knew  you  would  feel  differently  when  you 
had  time  to  think  it  all  over,  and  I  told  the  fellows  so." 

"I  don't  care  for  their  opinions!"  Bart  snarled.  "I'd! 
never  come  back  for  any  of  them!" 

"They  are  my  friends !" 

"I've  been  miserable  ever  since.  I  have  felt  like  a 
cur  as  I've  sneaked  round  town.  You  needn't  try  to 
stop  me !  You  are  the  truest  friend  I  ever  had,  and  I've 
treated  you  like  a  dog.  I  know  it,  and  I'm  sorry  for  it" 

"I  am  your  friend,  Bart,  because  I  understand  you, 


54  Hodge's  Repentance. 

and  appreciate  you.  The  others  would  think  as  much 
of  you  as  I  do,  if  they  understood  you  as  well.  We'll  not 
talk  any  more  about  this  matter,  if  you're  willing,  but 
just  turn  in  for  the  night  and  say  nothing  about  it." 

"How  can  you  overlook  a  thing  like  that?"  Hodge 
asked. 

"Because  I  knew  all  the  time  that  your  better  nature 
condemned  what  you  did,  and  that  you  would  by  and  by 
yield  to  your  better  nature.  The  man  who  meets  a 
powerful  temptation  and  finally  masters  it  is  stronger 
really  than  one  who  never  is  tempted.  I  forgave  you 
long  ago,  Bart,  and  would  have  told  you  so  if  you  had 
come  back.  I  was  angry  at  the  time,  but  I  didn't  remain 
angry." 

"I've  come  back  to  tell  you  that  I'll  catch  for  you  to- 
morrow— Saturday.  I  swore  I'd  never  catch  for  Buck 
Badger,  but  I  will.  I'll  catch  for  the  Old  Boy  himself,  if 
you  want  me  to.  I'm  not  ready  to  agree  that  he  ought 
to  be  permitted  to  pitch,  for  I  hate  the  very  sight  of  him ; 
but  I  have  put  that  by,  and  will  catch  for  you.  It  will 
be  catching  for  you,  you  see.  Merry,  and  not  for  him. 
I  ought  to  have  looked  at  it  that  way  before,  but  I  could 
not." 

"I  have  got  Jack  Ready  for  catcher!" 

Bart  gasped,  while  his  dark  face  seemed  to  get  redder 
and  hotter. 

"Why,  he  can't  catch!" 


Hodge's  Repentance.  55 

"Much  better  than  you  think.  He  is  a  pretty  fair 
catcher." 

"And  if  he  falls  down?" 

"I'll  put  some  one  else  in.  I  have  two  or  three  in 
mind,  and  have  spoken  to  two  of  them." 

Hodge  seemed  stunned. 

"I'm  willing  to  catch!"  he  said. 

"You  may,  Bart,  if  I  see  that  Ready  can't  do  the  work. 
If  the  game  seems  about  to  be  lost  I'll  go  into  the 
pitcher's  box  and  you  behind  the  bat,  and  we'll  pull  the 
nine  out  of  the  hole!  Eh?" 

Hodge's  eyes  brightened  strangely. 

"We  can  do  it,  Merry!  I'll  be  as  steady  as  a  clock. 
Only  I'm  sorry  things  went  the  way  they  did  and  that 
I  showed  how  mean  I  can  be.  I  only  proved  what  my 
enemies  say  of  me.  It's  too  late  now,  but  I'm  ready  to 
do  what  I  can  to  make  it  right." 

Merriwell  came  over  and  put  a  hand  on  Bart's 
shoulder. 

"I  understand  you,  Bart,  and  few  do.  I  know  that 
your  friendship  for  me  is  true  blue,  and  that  your  heart 
is  where  it  should  be,  even  if  your  head  runs  away  with 
you.  Now  we'll  get  to  bed.  To-morrow  we  play  ball, 
and  I  want  to  be  in  condition." 

But  Bart  Hodge  was  not  in  condition  to  play  ball,  nor 
in  condition  for  anything  the  next  day.  When  morning 
came  he  had  a  high  fever,  and  the  doctor  whom  Mer- 
riwell summoned  looked  grave. 


56  Hodge's  Repentance. 

"He  has  lost  sleep  and  been  exposing  himself  and 
caught  cold,"  he  said.  "It  looks  like  a  case  of  pneumonia, 
Better  send  him  to  the  hospital." 

"Will  he  be  better  off  at  the  hospital  than  here,  if  there 
is  some  one  here  to  take  care  of  him  ?" 

"No,  I  don't  know  that  he  will.  And  I  was  going  to 
say  that  it  is  really  too  bad  to  move  him  in  his  condition." 

"Then  he  will  stay  right  here.  I'll  get  the  best  nurse  to 
be  had,  and  look  after  him  all  I  can  myself !" 

And  Hodge,  under  the  best  of  care,  remained  in  his 
room,  while  Merriwell's  nine,  with  Jack  Ready  as  catcher 
and  Badger  as  pitcher,  went  out  to  meet  the  team  from 
Hartford  that  forenoon. 

A  big  crowd  of  rooters  had  come  over  from  Hartford 
to  whoop  things  up  for  Abernathy's  men.  They  \vere 
enthusiastic  fellows,  and  they  made  a  great  deal  of  noise. 
Some  of  them  were  betting  men,  and  they  flourished 
their  money  with  as  much  confidence  as  if  the  game  were 
already  won  and  they  were  certain  of  raking  in  their 
winnings. 

But  Yale  had  turned  out  a  big  crowd,  too,  for  Mer- 
riwell  was  immensely  popular,  and,  of  course,  the  Yale 
and  New  Haven  crowd  would  naturally  be  the  larger 
on  the  home  grounds. 

"We'll  have  a  warm  time  this  forenoon!"  Frank  ob- 
served to  Jack  Ready. 

"Torrid  as  the  equator!"  Ready  answered. 


Hopge's  Repentance.  57 

"How  is  your  nerve,  old  man?" 

Ready  dropped  a  finger  to  his  pulse  and  seemed  to  be 
counting. 

"Steady  as  a  clock,  Merry !" 

"Keep  it  that  way.  There  is  Badger  coming  over  for 
a  talk  with  you.  We'll  begin  as  soon  as  we  get  a  little 
warming  up." 

He  looked  at  his  watch  and  began  to  talk  with  Brown- 
ing, while  Ready  and  Badger  drew  aside  to  confer. 
Merriwell  could  see  that  Badger  was  a  bit  nervous  when 
the  game  was  called.  There  was  a  flush  in  his  face  and 
a  glitter  in  his  eyes  that  told  of  excitement,  but  this 
seemed  to  disappear  as  he  took  the  clean  new  Spalding 
ball  in  his  hands  and  entered  the  box. 

In  the  grand  stand  Frank  saw  Inza,  Elsie,  and  Win- 
nie, and  he  lifted  his  hat  to  them  again,  though  he  had 
enjoyed  a  long  talk  with  them  not  many  minutes  be- 
fore. Winnie  was  smilingly  happy.  She  waved  her 
handkerchief  to  Badger,  and  the  Kansan's  white  teeth 
showed  in  a  grim  smile  of  determination. 

"If  only  you  and  Bodge  were  the  hattery — I  mean  if 
only  you  and  Hodge  were  the  battery!"  Rattleton 
groaned  in  Frank's  ear. 

"Don't  worry,  Rattles!  Just  do  your  duty  on  third!" 
Merry  answered.  "We  are  all  right!" 

Thus  encouraged,  Harry  went  away  happy  and  con- 
fident. Browning  was  on  first,  with  Diamond  on  second. 


58  Hodge's  Repentance. 

Danny  Griswold  was  short-stop;  while  Dismal  had  th« 
right  field,  Bink  Stubbs  center,  and  Joe  Gamp  the  left. 
The  game  opened  with  Merriwell's  men  in  the  field. 

The  Westerner  surveyed  the  ground  and  his  surround- 
ings carefully.  Then  planted  his  toe  on  the  rubber  plate 
and  shot  in  a  "twister."  It  curved  inward  as  it  neared 
the  batter,  and  cut  the  heart  of  the  plate.  The  batter 
had  been  fooled  and  did  not  swing  at  it. 

"One  strike!"  called  the  umpire. 

The  batter,  who  was  looking  out  for  an  out  curve 
next,  swung  at  it,  and  fanned  the  air.  The  Yale  men, 
and  especially  the  sophomores,  began  to  shout. 

Badger  thought  it  time  to  change  to  an  out  curve, 
and  sent  one  in  hot  as  a  Mauser  bullet.  But  the  bat- 
ter was  looking  for  out  curves.  He  reached  for  it. 
Crack ! — away  it  sailed  into  the  right  field. 

"Go,  long  legs!"  was  screamed  at  Dismal  Jones,  who 
sprinted  for  it  with  all  his  might. 

The  next  man  of  the  Hartfords  at  the  bat  was  the 
pitcher,  Pink  Wilson,  a  fellow  almost  as  tall  and  lank 
as  Dismal  Jones,  with  a  hatchet  face  and  a  corkscrew1 
nose.  His  admirers  said  he  got  that  twisted  nose  from 
watching  his  own  curves  in  delivering.  He  came  up  con- 
fident, thinking  he  understood  the  tricks  of  the  Kansam 
pretty  well,  and  that  he  would  be  easy.  But  almost  be- 
fore he  knew  it  the  umpire  called  "one  strike." 

"That  ball  must  have  passed  this  side  of  the  plat*," 


Hodge's  Repentance.  59 

he  declared.  "It  was  an  in,  and  I  had  to  jump  to  get 
out  of  the  way." 

"Don't  jump  at  shadows!"  shouted  a  Yale  sophomore. 
"That  ball  was  all  right." 

The  umpire  promptly  informed  Wilson  that  he  was 
talking  too  much  with  his  mouth. 

"I'll  get  him  the  next  time!"  thought  the  lank  pitcher 
of  the  Hartfords.  "He  fooled  me  that  time,  but  he 
can't  do  it  again !" 

But  Badger  did  it  again.  Again  the  sophomores  be- 
gan to  yell.  Jack  Ready  tossed  the  ball  back. 

Badger  began  to  look  and  to  feel  confident,  a  thing 
that  Merriwell,  who  was  closely  watching  him,  did  not 
like.  This  time  the  Westerner,  after  almost  bending 
himself  double,  gave  his  arm  an  eccentric  movement  and 
shot  in  another  curve.  Wilson  struck  at  it  desperately, 
and  fanned  out. 

"He  can't  keep  it  up!"  yelled  a  Hartford  man,  who 
had  been  wildly  hunting  for  bets  a  short  time  before, 
and  who  felt  the  need  of  whistling  to  keep  his  courage 
up. 

Barrows,  the  center-fielder,  came  to  the  bat  next.  He 
went  after  the  very  first  one,  and  got  it.  Crack !  and 
away  the  ball  flew  again  into  the  right  field,  while  the 
Hartford  lads  opened  up  with  great  vigor. 

It  was  a  hit,  for  everybody  saw  that  Dismal,  even 
though  he  was  doing  his  best,  could  not  possibly  get  & 


6o  Hodge's  Repentance. 

Barrows  raced  to  first,  while  Tillinghast,  the  base-runner, 
took  second,  without  trouble,  but  stumbled  and  fell,  so 
that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  make  another  bag  on 
the  hit 

Badger  next  tried  his  highest  speed,  and  the  batter 
fanned,  but  Ready  dropped  and  fumbled  the  ball,  being 
unable  to  hold  it,  and  came  very  near  letting  both  runners 
advance,  although  he  did  get  the  sphere  down  to  third 
in  time  to  drive  them  back. 

Watching  closely,  Frank  had  discovered  that  some- 
thing about  Badger's  delivery  bothered  Ready.  Badger 
himself  saw  this,  and  he  tried  a  change  of  pace,  but 
the  batter  caught  it  on  the  handle  of  his  "wagon-tongue," 
and  drove  out  a  "scratch  hit"  that  filled  the  bases. 

Oleson,  a  Swede,  almost  as  large  as  Browning,  came 
up  to  the  plate. 

"And  there  were  giants  in  those  days,"  droned  Jones, 
from  his  position  in  the  field. 

"How's  that  for  the  giant?"  cried  Oleson,  as  he  slashed 
yet  another  down  into  Dismal's  territory,  bringing  in  the 
first  score  and  causing  the  Hartford  rooters  to  "open 
up." 

Jones  made  a  beautiful  throw  home,  which  sent  Bar- 
rows scrambling  back  to  third,  which  he  reached  barely 
in  time  to  save  himself,  for  Ready  had  lined  it  down 
to  that  bag  in  short  order. 

Frank  was  beginning  to  wonder  if  all  the  Hartford 


Hodge's  Repentance  61 

men  were  right-field  hitters,  or  was,  there  something  in 
Badger's  pitching  that  caused  them  to  put  the  balls  into 
that  field?  Unable  to  keep  still,  he  walked  down  toward 
first,  and  Browning  found  an  opportunity  to  say : 

"We  ought  to  have  Hodge  behind  the  bat.  Badger 
can't  use  his  speed,  for  Ready  can't  hold  him.  Are  you 
going  to  let  those  fellows  lose  this  game  in  the  first 
inning,  Merriwell  ?  If  you  do,  I'll  kick  myself  for  a  week 
for  being  chump  enough  to  get  out  here  and  swear  for 
nothing." 

"It's  a  handicap  not  to  have  Hodge,"  admitted  Frank. 

Browning  felt  like  saying  it  was  a  handicap  not  to  have 
Frank  in  the  box,  but,  fancying  he  had  said  enough  in 
that  line,  he  kept  still.  Badger's  face  took  on  a  hard 
look.  He  motioned  for  Ready  to  come  down  and  ad- 
vanced to  meet  him.  A  few  words  passed  between  them, 
while  the  Hartford  "fans"  guyed  them. 

This  little  talk  seemed  to  bear  good  fruit,  for  the 
(Westerner  fooled  the  next  batter  with  two  drops,  getting 
two  strikes  called.  Then  he  tried  "coaxers"  till  three 
balls  were  called  on  him,  and  again,  with  every  runner 
taking  all  the  "lead"  he  dared,  the  excitement  was  at  a 
high  pitch. 

Frank  feared  for  the  result. 

"Oh,  for  Hodge!"  he  thought.  "I  see  now  that  ouf 
handicap  means  disaster  unless  the  wind  changes." 

Ready  was  crouching  under  the  bat,  nervous,  but  de- 


62  Hodge's  Repentance. 

termined.  Badger  took  his  time,  but  put  terrible  speed 
into  the  next  ball,  which  he  sent  over  the  inner  corner 
of  the  plate.  The  batter  struck  at  it,  but  missed  clean. 

Plunk!  the  ball  struck  in  Ready's  hand.  Thud!  it 
dropped  to  the  ground.  But  the  bases  were  filled,  and 
the  batter  was  out,  for  all  that  Jack  had  not  held  the  ball. 
He  recovered  it  so  that  there  was  no  possibility  for  the 
man  on  third  to  get  home. 

Now  two  men  were  out,  but  the  bags  were  filled,  and  a 
long,  safe  hit  meant  more  scores  for  the  visitors.  Fleet- 
wood,  the  Hartford  third-baseman,  took  his  turn  at  the 
stick.  He  was  a  good  waiter,  and  he  found  just  what 
he  wanted,  sending  it  safe  over  the  short-stop,  so  that 
two  more  scores  came  in. 

Badger  was  pale  round  the  mouth  when  the  next 
hitter  stepped  up  to  the  plate.  He  did  not  spare  Ready. 
Jack  missed  the  first  two  balls,  being  unable  to  hold 
them,  although  he  did  not  let  them  get  past  him.  Both 
were  strikes,  and  again  Badger  tried  to  "work"  the  bat- 
ter, though  he  did  not  slacken  his  speed.  Frank  was 
anxious,  for  he  expected  to  see  the  freshman  catcher  let 
one  of  those  hot  ones  pass  him.  Nothing  of  the  kind 
happened,  and,  after  trying  two  balls,  Buck  used  a  sharp 
rise  and  struck  the  man  out. 

The  college  men  on  the  bleachers  rose  up  and  howled, 
but  Frank  Merriwell  was  gloomy  at  heart,  though  his 
lips  smiled. 


Hodge's  Repentance.  63 

''Badger  is  doing  well,"  he  told  himself;  "but  Ready 
cannot  hold  him.  I'm  afraid  the  handicap  is  too  great. 
Oh,  for  Bart  Hodge  just  now!" 

The  first  half  of  the  first  inning  was  over,  but  Hart- 
ford had  made  three  runs. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

READY     STEADY. 

Merriwell  saw  that  Ready  could  not  catch  for  Buck 
Badger.  There  was  such  an  utter  absence  of  anything 
like  team-work  that  there  seemed  to  be  little  hope  that 
the  game  could  be  won  by  Merriwell's  nine  if  the  battery 
was  not  changed.  Badger  could  pitch  like  a  wonder  at 
times,  but  he  rattled  Ready,  who,  as  a  rule,  and  in  re- 
gard to  other  matters,  was  as  steady  as  a  clock.  Ready 
simply  could  not  do  himself  justice  with  Badger  in  the 
box.  He  felt  it  as  well  as  Merriwell,  but  he  doggedly 
continued,  determined  at  all  events  to  do  his  best.  Ready 
was  a  fellow  of  infinite  pluck,  and  usually  a  fellow  of 
infinite  confidence.  He  would  have  had  confidence  now, 
but  there  was  not  a  thing  to  build  his  confidence  on. 

Merriwell's  nine  scored  four  times  before  it  was  forced 
again  into  the  field.  Frank  sent  Badger  into  the  box 
again,  after  talking  with  him  awhile. 

"You  rattle  Ready,  some  way!"  Frank  told  him. 
"Throw  those  in  curves  more,  and  work  in  your  dropped 
balls  when  you  can.  They  get  your  out  curves." 

Then,  before  playing  again,  he  had  a  few  words  with 
Ready. 

The  first  man  at  the  bat  got  a  hit,  while  the  next 


Ready  Steady.  65 

man  took  first  on  balls.  The  next  man  at  the  bat  knocked 
a  fly  into  the  hands  of  Danny  Griswold,  who  was  play- 
ing short-stop,  and  the  base-runners  came  back  to  their 
places. 

Then  the  men  on  bases  tried  to  make  a  double  steal, 
•which  was  partially  successful.  The  fellow  on  second 
reached  third,  but  the  runner  behind  him  was  cut  off 
at  second  by  a  throw  from  Ready.  Jack  should  have 
thrown  to  third,  but  he  did  not.  He  threw  low  to  second, 
and  Diamond  got  it  on  the  bound,  touching  the  runner 
as  that  individual  was  making  a  desperate  slide. 

Two  men  were  out,  and  Frank  hoped  that  Badger 
would  keep  the  visitors  from  scoring.  Buck  might  have 
done  so,  but  somehow  he  "crossed  signals"  with  Jack, 
the  result  being  a  passed  ball  that  let  in  a  score. 

"I'm  hot  stuff,"  chirped  Ready,  as  he  found  Frank 
back  at  the  bench  of  the  home  team.  "When  I  don't  fail, 
I  succeed." 

"I  see  you  do,"  answered  Frank  dryly.  "You  suc- 
ceeded in  letting  in  that  run." 

"Our  wires  got  crossed.  Badge  gave  me  an  in  when 
I  was  looking  for  an  out.  If  you'll  put  in  a  pitcher  who 
can  throw  a  curve,  I'll  surprise  you." 

"Does  Badger  rattle  you?" 

"Refuse  me !    I  think  I  rattle  him." 

There  was  no  time  for  further  talk,  and  the  game  went 
on.  Buck  was  nervous,  and  Frank  pitied  him,  for  he 


66  Ready  Steady. 

could  see  that  the  Westerner  might  do  well  with  a  good 
catcher  behind  the  bat.  Just  then  Merry  did  not  know 
of  a  man  to  put  in  Ready's  place,  for  he  could  see  that 
the  Westerner's  great  speed  and  queer  delivery  might  be 
too  much  for  any  green  catcher  who  was  not  used  to 
him. 

"Yes,"  muttered  Frank,  "the  loss  of  Hodge  is  the 
handicap  that  will  cause  us  to  lose  the  game — if  we  lose 
it." 

The  next  man  got  first  on  balls,  and  then  the  follow- 
ing batter  lifted  a  high  foul.  Ready  got  under  it,  and 
the  Hartfords  were  retired  at  last. 

"We're  done  up,  Merry,"  said  Rattleton,  as  the  men 
came  in. 

"Not  yet,  old  man,"  declared  Frank  cheerfully.  "1 
think  I'll  go  behind  the  bat  myself  next  inning." 

"Don't  do  it!"  exclaimed  Harry.  "I  know  you  can 
play  any  old  position,  Merry,  but  your  place  is  in  the  box. 
With  you  there,  every  man  on  the  team  will  play  like  a 
streak.  Won't  you  go  in  ?" 

"Badger " 

"Can  see  that  he  is  bound  to  lose  the  game  if  this 
keeps  on.  He's  got  sense.  He  won't  want  to  make 
such  a  bad  record  for  himself." 

"Ready  will  not  be  able  to  judge  the  double-shoot.  I 
can't  use  that."  , 


Ready  Steady.  67 

"You  won't  have  to.  You  can  win  this  game  with- 
out it." 

"I  don't  know." 

"I  do!    Try  it." 

Frank  was  in  doubt,  and  he  permitted  Badger  to  pitch 
one  more  inning.  The  Westerner  worked  hard,  but  it 
was  plain  he  had  lost  confidence,  and  he  was  not  at  his 
best.  Great  beads  of  perspiration  stood  out  on  his  face. 
Two  men  scored,  despite  him,  and  the  visitors  had  the 
lead  again. 

"I  believe  I'll  try  it  in  the  box,"  Frank  mentally  de- 
cided. "Perhaps  I  may  hold  Ready  steady.  It  looks  like 
the  only  show  to  win  out." 

When  Merriwell  finally  went  into  the  box,  seeing  that 
it  must  be  done,  Badger  retired  with  as  good  grace  as 
he  could,  though  his  dark  face  was  flushed. 

"There  would  be  no  trouble  if  it  wasn't  for  Jaclc 
Ready!"  he  asserted.  "I  can  pitch  all  right,  but  the 
pitcher  isn't  the  whole  battery!" 

"Your  delivery  bothers  him,"  Merriwell  explained.  "I 
believe  that  you  two  together  are  capable  of  good  work, 
but  it  will  take  a  lot  more  practise,  and  just  now  we 
haven't  time  for  practise.  You  can  pitch,  Badger,  and 
your  best  is  excellent;  but  you  are  irregular.  But  you'll 
come  round  all  right.  I  was  talking  with  Dunstan  Kirlc 
about  you  awhile  ago,  and  he  agrees  with  me.  He  has 
been  closely  watching  you  all  through  the  game." 


68  Ready  Steady. 

"I  know  it,"  Badger  growled.  "I've  known  it  only 
too  well!  It  has  helped  to  make  my  pitching  wild  at 
times.  If  he  had  stayed  away,  I  think  I  could  have  done 
all  right  all  the  time.  But  you'll  find  that  Ready  will 
worry  you.  He'd  worry  anybody.  The  fellow  simpl, 
can't  catch." 

"But  he  can!"  Merriwell   insisted.     "We'll  win  this 

4 

game  yet!" 

The  change  that  came  over  Jack  Ready's  work  shortly 
after  Merriwell  went  into  the  pitcher's  box  was  little 
short  of  marvelous.  Frank  seemed  to  know  how  to 
favor  Ready's  weak  points.  And  this  kept  Ready's  head 
steady  for  other  work,  so  that  he  made  not  another  wild 
throw  to  bases. 

Merriwell's  nine  began  to  feel  their  courage  rise.  It 
put  life  into  them  just  to  see  Frank  in  the  box.  Stolen 
bases  on  the  part  of  the  Hartfords  stopped.  The  swift- 
ness with  which  Merriwell  struck  out  three  batters  made 
the  spectators  gasp. 

From  that  on  Ready  was  steady,  and  he  and  Frank 
worked  together  like  a  battery  team  of  long  experience. 
Frank  Merriwell  won,  in  spite  of  his  handicap !  And  so 
the  Yale  rooters,  and  especially  Merriwell's  friends  and 
admirers,  who  were  a  host  in  themselves,  were  roaring 
wild  as  they  returned  from  the  ball-ground.  Merriwell 
joined  Inza  and  Elsie,  while  Badger  took  a  car  with 
{Winnie. 

"I   knew  that  everything  was  all  right,  as   soon  as 


Ready  Steady.  69 

you  went  into  the  box !"  Inza  declared.  "But  up  to  that 
minute  I  was  nervous.  I  was  wanting1  to  shake  you  all 
the  time  for  not  taking  Badger's  place  sooner." 

"I  felt  sorry  for  Badger,"  said  Elsie.     "And  I  felt 

sorry  for  Winnie.    She  got  as  red  as  a  beet  when  Badger 

left  the  box,  but  I  know  she  didn't  blame  you,  Frank. 

,  She  saw  just  how  it  was,  and  she  knew  you  ought  to  have 

gone  in  sooner,  but  of  course  she  felt  it." 

"I  was  afraid  Ready  might  begin  to  doubt  his  own 
abilities — though  probably  there  is  not  any  danger  that 
he  will  ever  do  that!  He  was  just  what  I  expected  of 
him,  though,  when  I  pitched.  And  if  Badger  and  Bart 
were  friends  and  could,  or  would,  work  together,  they 
would  make  a  good  battery." 

"You  will  have  to  coach  Badger  some,"  Inza  sug- 
gested. 

"Yes.  The  captain  of  the  ball-team  wants  me  to.  He 
thinks  there  is  good  stuff  in  both  of  them,  if  it  can  only 
be  properly  developed." 

The  three  got  out  at  a  transfer  station,  and  waited 
for  another  car. 

"Dere  she  comes!"  yelled  an  excited  youngster. 

The  "she"  he  referred  to  was  not  the  expected  car, 
but  the  head  of  a  circus  procession,  which  was  parading 
the  principal  streets  as  an  advertisement  of  the  perform- 
ances to  be  given  in  the  big  tents  in  the  suburbs  that  af- 
ternoon and  night 


70  Ready  Steady. 

Merriwell  and  the  girls  looked  in  the  direction  in- 
dicated. The  crowd  at  the  corner  seemed  to  become 
thicker.  People  began  to  swarm  out  of  the  doorways 
and  stream  out  into  the  middle  of  the  street. 

"And  this  is  scholarly  New  Haven!"  exclaimed  Inza. 
"Wild  over  a  circus  parade !" 

"We're  not  in  the  scholarly  part  of  New  Haven!" 
laughed  Frank.  "I  confess  that  I  like  to  see  a  circus 
parade  myself!" 

Inza  showed  evidences  that  she  liked  the  same  thing, 
for  she  craned  her  handsome  neck  and  stood  on  tiptoe 
to  catch  the  first  glimpse.  The  nodding  plumes  on  the 
heads  of  the  horses  drawing  the  gilded  band-wagon  came 
into  view,  and  at  the  same  moment  the  band  began  to 
crash  forth  its  resonant  music.  Children  danced  and 
capered,  heads  were  popped  out  of  second-story  windows, 
and  the  pushing  crowd  grew  denser. 

The  band-wagon  came  slowly  down  the  street  in  the 
bright  spring  sunshine,  followed  by  the  performers, 
mounted  on  well-groomed  horses,  some  of  which  were 
beautifully  mottled.  There  were  other  horses,  many  of 
them — a  few  drawing  chariots,  driven  by  Amazons. 
Then  came  the  funny  clown,  in  his  little  cart,  with  his 
jokes  and  grimaces  for  the  children. 

There  was  another  band-wagon,  as  gorgeous  as  the 
first,  at  the  head  of  the  procession  of  wild-beast  cages. 
Its  music  was  more  deafening  than  that  of  the  other. 


Ready  Steady.  71 

The  street-cars  seemed  to  have  stopped  running,  owing 
to  the  packed  crowds,  and  Frank  and  his  girl  friends 
remained  on  the  corner  curiously  watching  the  scene. 

Suddenly  a  fractious  horse  jerked  away  from  the  man 
who  had  been  standing  at  its  head  holding  it,  and 
whirling  short  about,  half-overturned  the  wagon  to  which 
it  was  hitched  and  raced  wildly  down  the  street.  Peo- 
ple scattered  in  every  direction,  several  being  knocked 
down  in  the  stampeding  rush. 

The  horse  climbed  to  the  sidewalk,  with  wheels  bump- 
ing the  curbing,  trying  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  some 
men  who  were  seeking  to  stop  it.  Almost  before  they 
were  aware  of  it,  horse  and  wagon  seemed  fairly  on  top 
of  Merriwell  and  the  girls.  Elsie  gave  a  startled  cry, 
and  dashed  across  the  street,  where  the  people  were  fall- 
ing back  out  of  the  way,  with  women  pulling  nervously 
and  excitedly  at  their  children. 

A  child  fell  headlong,  and  the  horse  seemed  about  to 
stamp  it,  when  Frank,  with  a  quick  leap,  picked  it  up 
from  under  the  very  feet  of  the  runaway,  and  dropped  it 
safely  at  its  mother's  side.  Then  a  tremendous  roar 
ascended.  Turning,  Frank  saw  that  Inza  and  Elsie  had 
disappeared.  He  did  not  at  first  know  the  cause  of  the 
roar. 

The  horse,  veering  again  and  wheeling  sharply,  had 
hurled  the  wagon  against  a  cage  in  which  was  confined 
a  full-grown  tiger.  This  was  an  open  cage — that  is, 
the  screening,  wooden,  outer  shell  had  been  removed, 


72  Ready  Steady. 

showing  the  big  beast  of  the  jungle,  with  its  keeper  in 
circus  costume,  seated  in  the  center  of  the  cage  on  a 
low  stool. 

Against  the  door  of  this  cage  the  bounding  wagon 
had  struck  heavily — so  heavily  that  the  lock  was  torn 
away  or  broken,  and  the  cage  door  pulled  open.  The 
roar  that  went  up  was  a  roar  of  alarm  and  fright.  And 
it  increased  in  intensity  when  the  striped  beast,  with 
nervously  flicking  tail,  leaped  past  its  keeper  and  into 
the  street,  where  it  crouched,  not  knowing  what  to  do 
with  its  newly  found  freedom. 

The  street  was  in  the  wildest  tumult  The  horses 
Drawing  the  cage  had  been  brought  to  a  stop  by  the 
driver.  But  another  horse,  frightened  by  the  din  and 
the  runaway,  broke  loose  just  at  that  time,  and  came 
tearing  along,  with  flaming  eyes  and  distended  nostrils, 
like  a  Malay  running  amuck. 

Frank  sprang  toward  the  head  of  this  horse,  for 
the  peril  to  the  stampeding  people  seemed  great.  But 
the  animal  veered  and  passed  by,  dragging  Merry  a  few 
yards  by  the  shafts  and  hurling  him  to  the  ground. 

The  sight  he  beheld  as  he  scrambled  up  was  enough 
to  stop  the  beating  of  his  heart.  Inza  and  Elsie  had  tried 
to  again  cross  the  street.  Inza  had  been  knocked  down 
by  the  horse,  and  lay  unconscious,  while  Elsie  had  been 
swept  on  in  the  crowd.  More  than  that,  the  keeper  of 
the  tiger,  who  had  courageously  leaped  after  the  terrible 
beast  with  his  spearlike  iron  goad,  hoping  to  be  able  to 


Ready  Steady.  73 

prod  and  cow  it  into  subjection,  had  been  knocked  flat 
also  by  the  horse,  his  iron  goad  flying  out  of  his  hand 
and  into  the  street. 

Though  Frank  was  some  distance  away,  he  started 
toward  the  tiger,  which  had  crouched  and  seemed  about 
to  spring  on  Inza.  But  before  he  could  take  a  step,  he 
saw  Elsie  run  from  the  crowd  toward  Inza  and  the 
tiger.  Her  face  was  very  white,  but  it  was  filled  with 
the  look  of  high  courage  which  inspired  her.  She  re- 
alized the  peril  of  any  attempt  she  could  make  to  save 
Inza,  and  she  boldly  took  the  risk. 

A  hundred  voices  were  screaming  at  the  big  brute, 
iwhich  crouched  with  undulating  tail  and  open  jaws;  but 
not  another  person  seemed  to  be  moving  toward  Elsie 
to  render  her  assistance,  with  the  exception  of  Frank 
Merriwell. 

He  saw  the  girl  pick  up  the  <ron  goad.  Then  Elsie 
Bellwood  leaped  between  the  tiger  and  Inza.  As  she 
did  so  she  lifted  the  goad.  The  tiger  turned  its  atten- 
tion from  Inza  to  Elsie,  and  the  latter  struck  at  it,  as 
if  the  goad  were  a  spear. 

Frank  Merriwell  heard  the  click  of  a  revolver  at  his 
side.  He  saw  a  man  shakily  lifting  it. 

"Permit  me!"  he  gasped,  and  plucked  it  from  the 
man's  hand. 

The  revolver  went  up,  flashing  for  a  moment  in  the 
sunshine.  A  quick,  sharp  report  rang  out  The  bullet, 
sent  with  true  and  steady  aim,  by  the  hand  of  Frank 


74  Ready  Steady. 

Merriwell,  ploughed  through  the  tiger's  brain,  and  the 
beast  flattened  out  convulsively,  and  began  to  kick  and 
writhe  in  its  death  agonies. 

Hearing  the  report  and  seeing  the  animal  fall,  Elsie's 
uplifted  hand  fell,  she  swayed  like  a  wind-blown  vine, 
and  dropped  heavily  down  across  the  form  of  Inza 
jBurrage. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FRIENDS. 

The  crack  of  the  revolver  and  the  fall  of  the  tiger 
seemed  to  break  the  spell  that  had  held  and  made  cowards 
of  the  throng.  A  dozen  men  leaped  toward  the  girls. 
But  Merriwell  reached  them  first.  He  lifted  Elsie,  who 
had  merely  fallen  in  a  faint,  as  he  saw;  and,  passing 
her  to  a  student  whom  he  recognized,  he  bent  anxiously 
over  Inza. 

There  was  a  bruise  and  a  fleck  of  blood  on  the  upper 
part  of  her  face. 

"Inza!"  he  said,  lifting  her  tenderly  and  seeking  to 
arouse  her.  "Are  you  much  hurt,  Inza?" 

The  words  and  tone  seemed  to  call  her  back  from  the 
land  of  death.  She  moaned  feebly,  and  tried  to  put  up 
a  hand.  Half-lifting  her  in  his  arms,  he  looked  around. 

"Is  there  a  surgeon  here!"  he  called. 

Elsie  came  back  to  consciousness  with  a  shiver,  and 
heard  him  call.  Her  face  had  been  very  white,  but  it 
became  pale  as  death.  The  sight  of  Inza's  bruised  face 
and  limp  form  upheld  by  Merriwell  seemed  to  blur  her 
brain  again.  She  caught  at  the  arm  of  the  student  who 
was  holding  her,  and  by  a  great  effort  kept  her  senses. 

"Is  she  dead,  Frank?"  she  whispered. 


76  Friends. 

"No!"  he  answered.  "I  don't  know  how  much  she 
may  be  hurt,  though." 

The  tiger  had  ceased  to  struggle,  the  crowds  were 
writhing,  a  babel  of  sound  that  was  confused  and  con- 
fusing filled  the  air.  The  circus  procession  had  come 
to  a  halt,  with  the  exception  of  the  forward  band,  which 
was  blaring  away  far  down  the  street. 

A  doctor  came  out  of  the  crowd.  Other  doctors 
proffered  their  services,  for  Inza  was  not  the  only  one 
who  had  been  knocked  over  by  the  rush  of  the  horses. 
The  injured  tiger-keeper  was  picked  up  and  bundled  into 
an  ambulance. 

"Right  across  here!"  said  the  doctor  who  had  an- 
swered Merriwell's  call.  Then  he  led  the  way  into  an 
apothecary's. 

"Nothing  serious !"  he  announced,  a  minute  later,  when 
he  had  made  his  examination.  "The  young  lady  will  be 
all  right  in  a  day  or  two." 

He  spoke  of  Inza,  and  both  Merry  and  Elsie  sent  up 
fervent  sighs  of  relief. 


Coming  softly  into  the  room  which  Elsie  Bellwood  oc- 
cupied, Inza  Burrage  saw  Elsie  in  tears. 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  Inza  asked,  going  up  and  putting 
her  arms  about  Elsie's  neck. 

Except  for  a  telltale  bit  of  courtplaster,  Inza  showed 


Friends.  77 

no  sign  of  the  dangerous  and  exciting  experiences 
through  which  she  had  that  day  passed. 

"Don't!  don't!"  Elsie  pleaded,  with  a  little  shiver. 
"If  you  knew  what  was  in  my  heart  you  wouldn't  speak 
to  me,  Inza  Burrage !" 

"Why,  dear?  Why  wouldn't  I  speak  to  you — you 
who  have  proved  yourself  the  most  heroic  and  courageous 
girl  in  all  New  Haven  ?" 

"It  wasn't  courage  half  so  much  as  it  was  fright. 
And  if  you  knew  the  thoughts  I  had!" 

Inza  kissed  her. 

"What?" 

Elsie  turned  on  her  a  horrified  face. 

"Inza,  when  I  saw  you  knocked  down  by  that  horse, 
the  awful  wish  came  into  my  heart  that  you  might  be 
killed.  And  even  when  I  saw  the  tiger  about  to  leap 
on  you,  I  couldn't  drive  that  thought  away.  I  have  been 
hating  you  in  a  way  that  I  never  thought  I  could  hate 
anybody!  You  see,  I  began  to  fear  that  you  were 
trying  to  come  between  me  and  Frank ;  and  if  you 
had  been  —  killed — there — would — have — been — an — end 
—of— that!" 

"But  you  rushed  between  me  and  the  tiger.  And  you 
fought  the  beast  with  that  goad.  You,  a  girl,  standing 
between  me  and  such  a  terror  as  that!  Frank  has  told 
me  all  about  it — about  how  brave  you  were!  It  was 
beautiful !" 

"When  I  felt  how  wicked  my  thoughts  was,  there  came 


78  Friends. 

an  awful  revulsion  of  feeling;  and  then  I  rushed  into 
the  street,  not  caring  if  I  was  killed,  if  I  could  only 
save  you.  I  felt  that  the  sacrifice  of  my  life,  even,  if  it 
were  necessary,  was  demanded  to  pay  for  those  dreadful 
thoughts.  I  knew  the  danger,  Inza,  but  that  hideous 
thought  made  me  brave." 

"You  are  naturally  brave,  Elsie !  I  feel  that  I  owe  my 
life  to  you." 

"And  I  wished  you  dead!"  said  Elsie  self-reproach- 
fully.  "I  can  never  forget  it.  Wished  you  dead  when 
you  were  knocked  down  and  when  the  tiger  threatened 
you.  Inza,  it  was  something  awful !" 

"It  was  because  you  love  Frank!" 

"And  you  love  Frank!    You  have  confesed  as  much." 

"Perhaps  I  do.  I  hardly  know  myself.  But  you 
have  shown  to-day  that  you  are  much  more  worthy  of 
him  than  I  am.  Don't  worry  about  any  of  those  troubles 
any  more." 

She  straightened  up,  with  the  look  of  a  renouncing 
queen,  while  her  dark  eyes  shone  like  stars. 

"Elsie,  I  will  go  away  from  here  if  it  is  necessary. 
I  will  not  disturb  you  and  Frank." 

"I  take  back  all  I  said  the  other  day !"  Elsie  quivered. 
"I  retract  every  word.  They  were  selfish,  jealous,  hate- 
ful words.  They  led  me  to  murderous  thoughts — for 
those  thoughts  about  you  to-day  were  really  murderous. 
3fou  shall  not  go  away !  Not  unless  I  go  away,  too !" 

"Then  we  can  be  friends,  dear!"  said  Inza,  laying  a 


Friends.  79 

hand  softly  on  the  golden  head.  "That  is  what  we  will 
try  to  be,  if  you  will,  in  spite  of  everything." 

"Yes,"  Elsie  assented,  "though  I  am  not  worthy  to  be 
your  friend." 

"Then  we  will  be  friends,  dear!" 

"We  are  friends!"  Elsie  exclaimed  impulsively,  draw- 
ing the  hand  down  and  kissing  it. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE     GUN     CLUB. 

"Baw  Jawve,  it  would  be  sport  if  a  fellah  could  draw 
on  a  grouse  on  a  Scotch  moor,  don't  you  'now !  It  would 
be  something  great  to  knock  such  a  bird  into  the  heather. 
There  really  isn't  any  shooting  in  this  country  to  be  com- 
pared to  that,  don't  you  'now !" 

Willis  Paulding  drawled  this  in  his  affected  style,  and 
then  swung  the  handsome  English  Greener  hammerless 
to  his  shoulder  and  squinted  down  the  barrels  as  if  he 
fancied  he  heard  the  whirring  of  a  moor  cock's  wings  and 
felt  the  thrill  of  the  sportsman  tingling  through  his  veins. 

"What's  the  matter  with  partridge  and  woodcock 
shooting  in  New  England?  Or  quail  shooting  in  the 
West  and  South?  Or  duck  shooting  on  the  Southwest 
coast?  Or  prairie-chicken  and  grouse  shooting  in  the 
far  West  and  Rocky  Mountains?"  demanded  Merriwell, 
who  had  arrived  on  the  grounds  of  the  gun  club  with 
Bart  Hodge  and  was  taking  his  gun  out  of  its  case. 

Paulding  flushed. 

"If  you  had  ever  shot  grouse  across  the  big  pond,  you 
'now,  you  wouldn't  ask  such  a  question,  Merriwell !" 

"I  have  shot  grouse  on  the  other  side  of  the  big  pond, 
and  it  is  fine  sport,  true  enough.  But  there  is  just  as 
fine  shooting  to  be  had  in  America.  You  make  me  tired. 


The  Gun  Club.  8 1 

You  want  to  act  like  an  Englishman,  Paulding,  but  it  is 
an  insult  to  the  English,  for  your  imitation  is  really  dis- 
graceful. A  true  Englishman  is  very  much  a  man !" 

"And  Paulding  is  a  mere  thing !"  snapped  Hodge. 

"He  isn't  worth  noticing,  don't  you  'now!"  sneered 
Paulding,  moving  away  with  the  members  of  the  Chick- 
ering  set.  "He  is  always  slinging  insulting  things  at 
me.  It's  mere  jealousy,  don't  you  'now,  that  makes 
him  act  so.  Baw  Jawve,  if  I  was  as  jealous  as  Merri- 
well,  I'd  go  drown  myself!" 

"He  is  always  slinging  insults  at  us  in  the  same  way !" 
OIlie  Lord  breathlessly  declared,  looking  as  fierce  as  he 
could  and  lifting  himself  on  his  tiptoes  to  increase  his 
fighting  height. 

"I  wouldn't  let  the  thing  worry  me,"  purred  Rupert 
Chickering.  "Merriwell  is  so  spoiled  by  flattery  that  he 
is  hardly  responsible  for  what  he  says.  I  never  like  to 
hold  harsh  feeling  against  any  one." 

"I'd  like  to  pull  the  wetch'eth  nothe!"  lisped  Lew 
Veazie,  looking  quite  as  fierce  as  OIlie  Lord.  "It  would 
therve  him  wight  if  I  thould  walk  up  to  him  thome 
day  and  thimply  pull  hith  nothe !" 

"But  he  might  pull  yours !"  Julian  Ives  warned.  "That 
wouldn't  be  pleasant,  you  know." 

Julian  Ives,  in  the  perfumed  sanctity  of  Chickering's 
rooms,  often  looked  lovingly  at  himself  and  his  won- 
derful bang  in  the  long  mirror  and  dreamed  the  heroic 
things  he  would  like  to  do  and  the  revenges  he  would 


82  The  Gun  Club. 

like  to  carry  out,  but  his  actual  courage  had  been  at  a 
very  low  ebb  ever  since  his  humiliating  experience  as  a 
member  of  the  Eskemo  dog-team  driven  by  the  cowboy, 
Bill  Higgins.  He  was  likely  to  remember  that  a  long 
while. 

"They're  not  worth  talking  about — none  of  Merri- 
well's  crowd!"  snarled  Gene  Skekling,  as  if  anxious  to 
change  the  drift  of  the  unpleasant  conversation,  for 
he  had  been  given  cause  to  fear  and  hate  Merriwell  and 
his  friends  quite  as  much  as  any  other  individual  who 
claimed  the  companionship  and  friendship  of  the  immacu- 
late Rupert.  "Let  me  see  your  gun,  Willis !" 

He  took  the  Greener,  snapped  it  open  to  see  if  it  was 
loaded,  then  winked  at  Chickering. 

The  members  of  the  Yale  Gun  Club  were  rapidly 
coming  on  the  ground,  together  with  a  number  of  noted 
New  Haven  shots  and  others  interested  in  trap  shooting. 
Browning  and  Rattleton  appeared,  and  Diamond,  Dismal, 
and  several  others  of  Merry's  set  were  seen  approaching. 

"I  thought  Bart  Hodge  was  sick?"  said  Tilton  Hull. 
"But  I  see  he  is  out  again." 

"When  I  heard  he  wath  thick  I  hoped  he  would  never 
get  well.  He  ith  a  howwid  cwecher!  Whenever  I  go 
near  him  he  thnapth  at  me  like  a  bulldog." 

"As  if  you  were  a  bulldog?"  queried  Skelding,  who  at 
times  seemed  to  delight  in  teasing  certain  members  of 
this  delectable  set. 

"The  idea!"  exclaimed  Ollie  Lord  indignantly,  putting 


The  Gun  Club.  83 

a  hand  caressingly  on  Veazie's  shoulder.  "A  bulldog! 
If  Yeazie  is  anything,  he  :s  like  the  cunning  little  dog 
I  had  once.  It  was  the  darlingest  little  poodle!  and  I 
simply  loved  it!" 

"Just  fawncy!"  sniffed  Willis  Paulding. 

But  Lew  Veazie  seemed  pleased.  He  put  up  a  hand 
to  touch  the  caressing  arm. 

"You're  another,  Ollie!"  he  beamed.  "I  always  did 
like  poodles!" 

"A  pair  of  poodles !"  said  Skelding,  and  again  winked 
meaningly  at  Rupert,  who  snatched  the  cap  from  the 
head  of  Julian  Ives  and  flung  it  into  the  air.  Skelding 
took  a  snap-shot  at  it  as  it  fell. 

"If  that  cap  is  damaged,"  said  Ives,  smoothing  his 
precious  bang  which  the  brisk  breeze  began  to  flirt  about, 
"I'll  make  you  fellows  pay  for  it.  That's  flat!" 

But  Julian's  alarm  was  premature.  Not  a  shot  had 
touched  it. 

The  members  of  the  Chickering  set  continued  the  de- 
lightful sport  of  snatching  hats  and  caps  from  each 
other's  heads  and  shooting  at  them  with  Paulding's  fine 
English  gun ;  but  the  only  damage  done  was  by  the  falls 
the  articles  received,  for  not  a  shot  touched  any  of 
them. 

"Of  course,  fellahs,  a  moor  cock  doesn't  fly  that  way," 
Willis  drawlingly  explained,  in  extenuation  of  the  poor 
shooting.  "He  doesn't  go  right  up  and  down,  you  'now. 


84  The  Gun  Club. 

He  has  wings,  don't  you  'now,  and  flies  straight  away, 
like  a  shot.  I  could  hit  a  grouse  without  any  trouble, 
but  this  kind  of  shooting!  The  best  shot  in  England 
would  be  bothered  with  it." 

"We'll  have  a  try  at  the  clay  pigeons  and  blackbirds 
soon,"  Chickering  comfortingly  promised. 

"But,  gwathious,  I've  twied  them,  and  they're  harder 
to  hit  than  thethe  are !  I  could  do  better  if  I  could  only 
keep  my  eyeth  open,  but  the  minute  I  begin  to  pull  the 
twigger  my  eyeth  go  shut,  and  I  can't  help  it." 

They  had  turned  round  and  were  retracing  their  way 
toward  Merriwell  and  his  friends  without  noticing  it. 
Suddenly  Lew  Veazie  jumped  straight  up  into  the  air, 
clapped  a  hand  smartly  against  one  of  his  legs,  and  began 
to  dance  a  hornpipe.  At  almost  the  same  moment  a  shot 
was  fired  by  some  one. 

"Thay,  fellowth,  I'm  thyot!"  he  gasped,  turning 
deathly  pale.  "Honeth,  thith  ithn't  a  joke!  I'm  thyot! 
Ow !  It  burnth  like  fire !" 

"Where?"  Ollie  anxiously  asked,  staring  at  the  dancing 
youth,  and  looking  quickly  about  to  make  sure  that  no 
loaded  gun  was  pointed  in  his  direction.  The  others 
looked  about,  too. 

"This  reckless  shooting  ought  to  be  forbidden !"  de- 
clared Skelding,  regardless  of  the  fact  that  the  shooting 
he  and  his  friends  had  been  doing  was  of  the  most  reck- 
less character.  Veazie  dropped  down  on  the  ground,  and 
began  to  pull  up  one  leg  of  his  trousers. 


The  Gun  Club.  85 

"It  stwuck  me  wight  here!"  he  gasped.  "I  think  it 
must  have  gone  thwough  my  leg.  I  can  feel  the  blood 
twickling  down." 

Ollie  went  down  on  his  knees  and  began  to  help  him, 
and  together  they  soon  had  the  injured  spot  revealed  to 
their  anxious  eyes.  They  beheld  a  reddish  place,  with 
a  center  like  a  pin  jab,  but  not  a  drop  of  blood. 

"It  was  a  spent  shot!"  said  Rupert  wisely.  "It  came 
from  a  distance.  But  it  was  a  very  reckless  thing  to 
do  to  fire  at  all  in  this  direction." 

"Let  me  take  a  look  at  it!"  said  Julian  Ives,  crowd- 
ing forward  and  stooping  to  inspect  it.  As  he  did  so,  he 
straightened  up  with  a  little  screech,  and  clapped  a  hand 
to  his  hips. 

"Wow!"  he  howled,  dancing  round  as  Veazie  had 
done.  "I'm  shot,  too !  Fellows,  this  is  awful !  I  believe 
I'm  killed !  Who  is  doing  this  ?" 

"Thuch  weckleth  thyoothing  I  never  thaw!"  groaned 
Veazie,  though  he  was  much  relieved  to  discover  that 
he  had  not  received  a  deadly  hurt.  "Thomebody  mutht 
be  awwested  for  thith.  I  thouldn't  be  thurpwithed  if  it 
ith  one  of  Merriwell's  fwiendth !" 

"Wow!"  howled  Julian,  falling  to  the  ground,  and 
writhing  about  in  his  agony.  "I'm  dead!  I  never  had 
anything  hurt  me  so!  Wow-ow-ow!" 

Ollie  Lord  clapped  a  hand  to  his  head  and  executed  a 
quickstep.  He  pulled  off  his  cap  and  rubbed  furiously, 


86  The  Gun  Club. 

expecting  to  feel  the  blood  come  away  on  his  fingers, 
for  he  also  fancied  he  had  been  shot. 

"Goodness!"  he  gasped.  "Whoever  is  shooting  this 
way  ought  to  be  jailed.  We  will  all  be  killed  in  five 
minutes.  That  tore  a  hole  in  my  scalp,  sure!" 

Rupert  Chickering,  who  was  beginning  to  look  grave 
and  anxious,  next  jumped  up  into  the  air,  forgetting  his 
dignity;  while  Willis  Paulding  sat  down  with  a  sud- 
denness that  jarred  the  ground,  and  began  to  declaim  in 
a  quick,  nervous  way  and  without  the  slightest  imitation 
of  an  English  accent. 

Then  Lew  Veazie,  who  had  been  rubbing  his  injured 
leg  and  looking  surprisedly  and  dubiously  about,  leaped 
to  his  feet  with  another  howl  and  went  dancing  off  from 
his  friends. 

"Felloth,  it  ith  hornets !"  he  shrieked,  beginning  to 
fight  and  slap  with  his  cap  and  his  hands.  "Ow !  wow ! 
They're  thtinging  me  to  death !  Help  me,  thomebody !" 

"Hornets!"  shrieked  Ollie  Lord,  leaping  up  and  fol- 
lowing his  chum.  "Fellows,  the  air  is  full  of  them !" 

Tilton  Hull  began  to  dig  fiercely  at  his  high  collar. 

"There  is  one  down  my  neck !"  he  screeched. 

He  recklessly  tore  the  collar  away  and  began  to  dig 
with  his  nails  in  a  wild  search  for  the  thing  that  had 
stung  him,  and  which  he  fancied  he  felt  boring  its  way 
still  farther  down  his  back.  Julian  Ives  took  his  hand 
from  his  hip  and  slapped  it  against  his  breast,  where  a 


The  Gun  Club.  87 

red-hot  lance  seemed  to  have  been  driven  with  torturing 
suddenness.  Then  he  began  to  tear  away  his  beautiful 
necktie  and  to  recklessly  rumple  his  gorgeous  shirt  front 

"This  is  awful !"  he  exclaimed.  "Where  are  the  things 
coming  from?  The  air  is  full  of  them!  Wow!  An- 
other struck  me  in  the  arm !" 

Lew  Veazie  was  rolling  over  and  over.  Their  out- 
cries attracted  the  attention  of  Merriwell  and  his  friends, 
and  also  the  attention  of  a  number  of  others  who  had 
come  upon  the  grounds. 

"What  are  those  idiots  up  to?"  grumbled  Hodge,  who 
had  no  patience  with  the  antics  of  the  Chickering  set 
"They've  been  making  fools  of  themselves  ever  since 
they  came  out  here.  Awhile  ago,  they  were  recklessly 
burning  powder  and  hurling  shot  all  round.  Now  they 
act  as  if  they  were  crazy." 

"Must  be  playing  some  sort  of  game  of  circus!" 
guessed  Browning.  "They're  tumbling  about  like  acro- 
bats—or fools!" 

"And  howling  like  wild  Indians!"  said  Danny.  "1 
think  they  are  playing  a  Wild  West." 

"They  ought  to  have  Bill  Higgins  here,  then,  to 
make  the  show  complete,"  Merriwell  remarked,  with  a 
smile.  "But  seriously,  I  don't  believe  they're  playing 
anything.  Those  yells  sound  real." 

"Help !'  howled  Willis  Paulding,  forgetting  his  drawl, 
"We're  being  stung  to  death !" 


88  The  Gun  Club. 

Willis  was  down  on  the  ground,  soiling  his  beautiful 
trousers  and  digging  furiously  at  his  head. 

"Hornets !"  shrieked  Ollie  Lord,  kicking  about  not  far 
from  Paulding. 

"Wow!"  screeched  Lew  Veazie,  bobbing  up  and  down 
like  a  cork  in  water  when  a  fish  is  nibbling  at  the  bait. 

"Take  'em  off!"  begged  Julian  Ives,  neglecting  his 
lovely  bang  and  scratching  with  great  energy  at  the 
places  where  he  had  been  stung. 

"We're  in  a  nest  of  hornets,  or  bees,  or  something!" 
exclaimed  Rupert  Chickering,  becoming  decidedly  bellig- 
erent in  his  efforts  to  rid  himself  of  the  stinging 
creatures. 

"Are  you  going  to  stand  there  and  see  us  killed?" 
Skelding  demanded.  "I  tell  you,  we  are  being  stung !" 

"Glad  to  know  it !"  declared  Bart.  "You  need  it.  It's 
hopeless,  though,  to  expect  that  the  hornets  will  sting 
any  sense  into  your  crowd." 

Merriwell    started    toward    the    screeching,    dancing, 

jigging,  fighting  youths,  quickening  his  steps  into  a  run, 

• 
and  his  friends  followed  at  his  heels.    As  he  did  so  he 

heard  the  loud  and  discordant  jangle  of  a  cowbell  furi- 
ously shaken. 

A  man,  a  woman,  and  a  boy  had  come  in  sight,  ap- 
pearing from  behind  the  seats  allotted  to  spectators. 
Evidently  they  had  emerged  but  a  minute  before  from 
a  strip  of  timber  that  cut  off  the  view  of  a  farmhouse 
that  was  on  the  right  of  the  gun  club  grounds  and  some 


The  Gun  Club.  89 

distance  away.  They  were  running  as  fast  as  they  could, 
and  were  shouting  something  as  the/  came  on.  The  boy, 
a  lanky  chap  of  fourteen  or  fifteen,  was  vigorously  sha- 
king the  bell.  The  man  carried  a  large  pail,  and  the 
woman  swung  a  roll  of  dirty  cloth. 

"Hold  on!  hold  on!"  the  man  howled.  "Jest  handle 
'em  gently,  can't  ye?" 

The  Chickering  set,  as  well  as  Merriwell's  friends, 
heard  him. 

"Oh,  yes!  we'll  handle  'em  gently!"  snarled  Skelding, 
slapping  at  one  of  the  stinging  things  and  crushing  it 
with  his  hand.  He  saw  then  that  it  was  a  bee.  He 
jerked  his  hand  avay  and  stuck  his  fingers  into  his 
mouth.  Then  jumped  up  and  began  again  to  hop  around. 

"It  run  its  stinger  In*o  my  finger  an  inch !"  he  growled. 

"Hold  on !  hold  on !"  the  old  man  was  howling. 

"I'm  holding  on !'  cried  Rupert,  smashing  away  at  a 
handful  of  bees  which  seemed  to  be  settling  down  on  him 
all  at  once. 

"You're  killing  'em !"  screeched  the  old  woman. 

"Yes,  we're  killing  'em!"  Skelding  answered,  flailing 
away  as  if  he  had  gone  crazy.  "I'd  like  to  kill  a  million 
in  a  minute!  I  can't  kill  them  fast  enough!  I'd  like 
to  welt  'em  with  a  club  and  smash  a  regiment  at  a 
blow!" 

Lew  Veazie  threw  himself  on  the  ground,  drew  his 
hat  down  over  his  head,  and  began  to  kick  and  shriek. 

"You're  jest  a  tantalizin'   'em!"   panted  the   farmer. 


go  The  Gun  Club. 

Merriwell  stopped  and  laughed.  The  whole  thing  was 
too  ridiculously  funny  for  him  to  do  otherwise. 

"They're  swarmin'!"  shouted  the  boy,  rattling  away 
with  the  bell  as  if  his  life  depended  on  it. 

"Yes,  I  see  they  are !"  howled  Julian  Ives.  "They're 
swarming  all  over  me!" 

"Don't  hurt  'em !"  the  farmer  begged.  He  was  only  a 
few  feet  away,  and  panting  on,  almost  breathless. 

"Don't  kill  'em!"  whined  the  old  woman.  "They're 
my  bees !" 

Her  words  reached  Lew  Veazie.  For  a  moment  the 
kicking  legs  were  stilled,  though  the  hat  was  not  with- 
drawn. 

"Take  'em  away  then,  pleathe!"  he  begged,  from  un- 
der the  hat.  "I  don't  want  to  hurt  your  beethe,  but 
they're  hurting  me !  Take  'em  away,  pleathe !" 

The  boy  stopped  his  jangling  bell. 

"They  are  honey  bees!"  he  said.  Then  added,  as  if 
he  feared  this  might  not  be  clear  to  the  intellects  of 
city-bred  youths:  "They  make  honey!" 

"I'll  tantalize  them!"  Skelding  fiercely  exclaimed, 
striking  at  the  bees  that  were  hovering  round  his  head. 
"I'll  treat  'em  gently !  Oh,  yes !  I'll  pick  them  off  very 
tenderly  and  put  them  in  your  lap,  old  lady!  I  don't 
think !  Keep  your  old  bees  at  home !" 

"But  they're  swarming!"  the  old  farmer  exclaimed. 
"They're  going  out  to  hunt  a  new  hive. '  We've  been  fol- 
lerin'  'em," 


The  Gun  Club.  91 

Then  Lew  Veazie  began  to  bellow  again,  more  fran- 
tically than  ever.  A  large  crowd  was  gathering,  men 
hurrying  from  all  directions,  Merriwell  and  his  friends 
had  arrived  on  the  scene. 

"Ow-wow!"  Veazie  shrieked.  "They're  worthe  than 
ever!" 

For  a  few  seconds  he  had  not  been  troubled  except 
by  the  stings  previously  given,  which  pained  intensely. 
Merriwell  looked  down  and  saw  a  big  bunch  of  bees 
gathering  along  the  top  of  V&fczie's  collar  at  the  back. 

"They're  killing  me!"  Veazie  screeched,  rubbing  a 
hand  into  this  mass  and  leaping  to  his  feet. 

But  the  pile  grew.  The  bee*  seemed  to  drop  by  scores 
right  out  of  the  air  upon  him,  He  started  to  run.  The 
old  woman  began  to  shriek,  and  thft  boy  commenced 
again  to  jangle  the  bell. 

"You've  got  the  queen!"  howled  the  old  man.  "Jest 
keep  still  a  minute!  You  have  got  the  queen!" 

"Is  this  a  card-game?"  drawled  Browning. 

"Lew  Veazie  is  the  little  joker  this  time!"  droned 
Dismal. 

"That's  because  he  is  so  sweet !"  declared  Bink.  "Don't 
you  know  the  boy  said  these  are  honey  bees?  They're 
going  to  carry  Veazie  away  and  turn  him  into  honey 
and  the  honey  comb." 

"If  you  talk  that  way  I'll  have  to  swear  off  on  honey!" 
exclaimed  Browning,  with  a  wry  face. 

"Hold  on!    Jest  hold  on!"  the  farmer  was  begging. 


92  The  Gun  Club. 

Veazie  started  to  run,  and  the  farmer  reached  out  a 
hand  for  the  purpose  of  detaining  him. 

"They  ain't  stingin'  you!"  he  insisted.  "Jest  keep 
your  hands  down  and  keep  still  an'  they  won't  do  a 
thing  to  you!" 

"Oh,  they  won't  do  a  thing  to  him !"  howled  Danny. 

Veazie  dropped  flat  to  the  ground. 

"Jest  hold  on!"  begged  the  farmer.  "Jest  hold  on! 
They're  lightin'  round  the  queen !" 

Then  he  dipped  his  big  hand  into  the  pail  and  began 
to  ladle  out  the  water  and  drench  the  bees  with  it,  while 
the  old  woman  flailed  with  the  roll  of  cloth  to  keep  them 
away  from  her,  and  the  farmer's  boy,  dancing  up  and 
down  in  his  excitement,  jangled  the  bell  like  an  alarm 
clock. 

"Jest  hold  on!"  the  farmer  urged,  as  Veazie  showed 
signs  of  rolling  over.  "I'll  git  my  fingers  on  that  there 
queen  in  a  minute,  and  then  I'll  have  'em.  I  wouldn't 
lost  this  swarm  fer  five  dollars.  Jest  hold  on  a  minute !" 

"Veazie's  queen!"  some  one  sang  out  from  the  heart 
of  the  surging,  talking,  sensation-loving  throng.  "I  al- 
ways knew  you  were  attractive,  Veazie,  but  I  didn't  know 
females  rushed  at  you  in  that  warm  way.  Yes,  jest  hold 
on  a  little,  Veazie.  We  don't  have  a  circus  like  this 
every  day,  and  we  want  to  get  the  worth  of  our  money." 

Ollie  Lord,  Chickering,  Hull,  Skelding,  and  the  others 
seemed  to  have  been  almost  deserted  by  the  bees,  that 
were  now  swarming  down  upon  the  hapless  Ksper,  drawn 


The  Gun  Club.  93 

there  by  the  fact  that  the  queen  had  found  lodgment 
somewhere  on  Veazie's  neck. 

Under  the  influence  of  the  farmer's  commands,  Veazie 
ceased  to  kick  and  strike,  and  lay  like  a  gasping  fish 
while  the  man  deluged  him  with  water. 

"Thay,  I'm  dwoning!"  he  gasped  at  last.  "Thith  ith 
worthe  than  being  thtung!" 

But,  in  truth,  the  deluge  of  cold  water  took  away 
something  of  the  fiery  pain  of  the  stings. 

"Just  hold  on!"  cried  the  farmer  again. 

Then  he  thrust  a  thumb  and  finger  down  into  the 
writhing  wet  mass  of  bees,  drew  out  the  queen,  which 
by  its  size  and  shape  he  readily  distinguished  from  the 
others,  and  began  to  rake  the  bees  into  the  new,  empty 
pail. 

When  he  had  the  most  of  them  in,  the  old  woman 
threw  the  cloth  over  them.  The  farmer  was  now  down 
on  his  knees,  and  the  bees  that  were  still  on  Veazie  he 
began  to  pick  off  and  pop  into  the  pail  as  if  they  were 
grains  of  gold. 

"I've  got  'em!"  he  triumphantly  declared.  "This  is 
my  fu'st  swarm  this  spring.  I  thought  the  blamed  things 
was  goin'  to  git  away,  but  I've  got  'em.  Giner'ly  they 
light  on  a  tree  when  they're  swarmin',  or  on  somethin* 
green !" 

"That's  why  they  struck  Veazie!"  some  one  shouted 
from  the  crowd. 


94  The  Gun  Club. 

"Can  I  get  up?"  Veazie  gasped.  "I'm  wetter  than 
the  thea!" 

"Yes,  young  man,  an'  I'm  'bliged  to  ye.  The  rest  of 
'em  will  find  their  way  to  the  queen,  I  guess.  When 
these  bees  makes  honey,  if  you'll  come  over  I'll  give 
you  a  hunk." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SHOOTING. 

Lew  Veazie  was  a  sorry  sight  when  he  got  up  from 
the  ground.  The  water  had  converted  the  soil  into  mud, 
which  plastered  him  now  from  head  to  foot.  And  here 
and  there  on  his  face  and  hands  were  red  spots  made  by 
the  bee  stings. 

Gene  Skelding  was  flailing  at  some  bees  that  did  not 
seem  to  have  discovered  that  the  queen  was  captured 
and  their  rightful  domicile  was  the  farmer's  pail.  There 
were  other  bees  also  at  liberty,  and  one  of  them,  angered 
no  doubt  by  the  turn  of  events,  popped  a  stinger  into 
the  cuticle  of  Bink  Stubbs. 

"Scatt !"  shrieked  Bink.  "Get  away  from  here,  or  I'll 
murder  you!" 

Browning  moved  back,  for  a  bee  seemed  to  be  making 
a  desperate  effort  to  single  him  out  as  a  victim.  Then 
he  stuck  his  pipe  into  his  mouth,  quickly  fished  out  some 
tobacco,  and  crammed  the  bowl  full,  and  lighted  it. 

"Smoke  'em  off!"  he  said.  "That's  a  good  way  to 
fight  bees." 

"And  tobacco  smoke  keeps  away  other  female  crit- 
ters !"  laughed  Danny,  trying  rather  vainly  to  imitate  the 
peculiar  quality  in  the  farmer's  speech.  "That's  the  rea- 


96  Shooting. 

son  you  have  never  been  popular  with  the  fair.  Now 
there  is  Veazie " 

"What  about  cigarettes?"  drawled  Browning,  making 
a  fog  round  his  head.  "Don't  let  the  kettle  call  the  pot 
Blackie!  The  most  disgusting  thing  ever  created  is  a 
smoker  of  cigarettes !" 

"Yah !"  growled  Danny,  taking  out  a  cigarette.  "Lend 
me  a  match,  old  man." 

And  Browning  lent  him  a  match.  Bink  was  rubbing 
earnestly  at  the  stung  spot. 

"I'll  never  see  honey  again  without  thinking  of  this." 

"Which  honey  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Danny.  "I  heard 
you  calling  a  chambermaid  Honey  the  other  evening. 
You  must  have  thought  her  sweet!" 

"And  I  heard  one  of  them  calling  you  a  fool  the 
other  evening.  She  must  have  thought  you  an  idiot." 

"Thomebody  get  me  a  cab!"  begged  Veazie,  rubbing 
his  stings  and  ruefully  regarding  himself.  "Thay,  fel- 
lowth,  thith  ith  awful !  I'm  a  thight !  Get  a  cab,  thome- 
body,  and  take  me  home.  I'm  thick!" 

"No  cab  here,"  said  Skelding,  who  was  also  anxious  to 
get  away  from  the  joking  and  guying  crowd.  "But  I 
see  a  carriage  over  there.  Yes,  two  of  them." 

"Get  a  cawiage — anything!"  moaned  Veazie.  "Take 
me  to  the  hothpital,  take  me  to  a  laundwy,  take  me  to  a 
bath — anywhere,  quick  !" 

The  exodus  of  Veazie  and  his  friends  was  followed 
by  the  return  of  Merriwell  and  his  comrades  to  the  traps. 


Shooting.  97 

Hodge  had  not  been  long  out  of  a  sick-bed,  and  looked 
thin  and  weak.  He  walked  with  Merriwell.  The  other 
members  of  the  flock  had  forgiven  him  for  the  rancorous 
and  sulky  spirit  which  had  made  him  refuse  to  catch  in 
the  ball-game  against  Hartford,  in  which  Buck  Badger 
had  pitched,  but  they  had  not  forgotten  it.  They  were 
courteous,  but  they  were  not  cordial,  and  Hodge  felt  it. 

Buck  Badger  came  upon  the  ground,  but  without  a 
gun.  He  was  alone,  too,  and  he  kept  away  from  Mer- 
riwell's  crowd.  He  had  not  learned  to  like  Merriwell's 
friends,  any  of  them,  and  he  detested  Hodge. 

Having  taken  his  gun  from  its  case,  Merriwell  put 
it  together,  and  opened  a  box  of  loaded  shells,  which  he 
placed  on  the  ground.  The  gun  was  a  beautiful  twelve- 
gage  hammerless,  of  late  design  and  American  manu- 
facture, bored  for  trap  shooting.  Hodge's  gun  was  so 
nearly  like  it  that  they  could  scarcely  be  told  apart. 

Morton  Agnew  and  Donald  Pike  came  on  the  grounds 
before  the  shooting  began.  Merriwell  observed  that 
Badger  affected  not  to  notice  them,  but  the  Westerner 
was  plainly  annoyed. 

"Perhaps  you  would  like  to  shoot!"  said  Merriwell, 
going  over  to  Badger  with  his  gun.  "I  can  let  you  have 
the  use  of  my  gun.  Hodge  has  one  just  like  it,  and 
all  our  other  fellows  have  good  guns.  So,  if  you'd  like 
to  shoot!  It's  all  right,  and  as  good  as  they  make 
them." 

The  Kansan  was  plainly  pleased. 


98  Shooting. 

"And  I  can  let  you  have  shells." 

"I'll  take  the  gun,  Merriwell,"  he  said,  balancing  it  in 
his  hands  and  locking1  it  over.  "But  I  can't  let  you  fur- 
nish shells,  when  I  can  buy  all  I  want  right  here  on  the 
grounds.  And  there  is  no  reason  why  you  can't  shoot 
with  it,  too." 

"None  at  all,  old  man,  only  I  thought  likely  you 
wouldn't  want  to  mix  in  with  our  crowd.  I  can  shoot 
Bart's  gun." 

Badger  flushed  and  his  face  darkened.  He  was  on  the 
point  of  saying  something  bitter  against  Hodge. 

"I  didn't  intend  to  shoot  when  I  came  out,"  he  said, 
choking  down  the  angry  utterance,  "or  I  should  have 
brought  a  gun.  In  fact,  I  didn't  start  for  this  place  at 
all.  But  I'm  here  now,  and  I  reckon  my  fingers  would 
never  get  done  itching  if  I  couldn't  get  to  pull  a  trigger. 
I  used  to  shoot  some  on  the  ranch,  you  know,  and  I 
hope  I  haven't  lost  anything  whatever  of  the  knack.  If 
I  should  beat  your  score  now?" 

"You're  welcome  to." 

"Of  course  I'm  more  used  to  a  revolver  and  rifle  than 
to  a  shotgun,  but  I  allow  I  know  a  kink  or  two  about 
trap  shooting,  just  the  same." 

The  rattle  and  click  of  guns  being  put  together,  the 
snapping  of  locks,  and  the  chatter,  made  pleasant  music 
for  gun  lovers,  as  Frank  returned  to  his  friends. 

"You  didn't  let  him  have  your  gun?"  growled  Hodge. 

"'Yes;  I  will  shoot  with  yours." 


Shooting.  99 

"You're  welcome  to,  of  course;  but  I  shouldn't  have 
done  it." 

"Here  goes  to  kill  the  first  bird  !"  cried  Danny,  ambling 
out  with  a  repeating  shotgun  in  his  hands. 

"If  you  don't  hit  it  first  time,  you  can  just  sheep  on 
kooting — I  mean  keep  on  shooting!"  jollied  Rattleton. 

"I  wish  there  was  a  bee  round  here  to  sting  him!" 
sighed  Bink,  as  Danny  faced  the  trap.  "I'm  so  sore  from 
laughing-  that  I  know  I  can't  hit  anything." 

"You  couldn't  hit  anything,  anyway !"  said  Bruce,  put- 
ting some  shells  into  his  gun. 

"I  can  hit  you!"  Bink  growled,  lunging  at  him. 

"I  meant  anything  small !"  said  Bruce,  brushing  aside 
Bink's  blow  as  if  it  had  been  a  fly.  "Shoo!  Don't 
bother  me,  or  I  may  get  one  of  these  shells  stuck." 

A  trap  was  sprung,  and  Danny  blazed  away. 

"Missed!"  said  Dismal. 

"And  Danny  is  our  crack  shot!"  moaned  Bink.  "The 
papers  will  say  to-night  that  our  shooting  was  like  a  lot 
of  schoolgirls." 

"How?"  asked  Merriwell. 

"All  misses!  Yah!  Watch  me  smash  one  of  those 
blackbirds  into  dust" 

Bink  went  forward  with  much  seeming  confidence — 
and  missed,  too. 

"Of  course  I  didn't  want  to  take  away  all  the  courage 
of  you  fellows  by  hitting  the  first  bird,"  he  blandly  ex- 
plained. "But  I  could  have  done  it" 


loo  Shooting. 

The  conditions  for  shooting  were  fair,  for  the  wind 
was  not  so  strong  as  it  had  been  earlier  in  the  day.  Sev- 
eral shots  were  made,  together  with  a  number  of  hits. 
Then  Buck  Badger's  name  was  called,  and  he  went  up  to 
the  line  with  Merriwell's  gun.  One  of  the  boys  who  was 
manipulating  the  traps  sprung  the  middle  one,  and  the 
bird  shot  swiftly  off  to  the  right.  It  was  a  rather  diffi- 
cult target,  but  Badger  knocked  the  clay  bird  into  dust. 

"A  good  shot !"  some  one  called  from  the  crowd. 

"It  was  a  good  shot!"  Merriwell  commented. 

Dismal  Jones  followed  Badger,  and  knocked  down  the 
straightaway  bird  which  was  sprung  from  the  right-hand 
trap. 

"Now  the  earth  will  fall !"  squeaked  Bink,  for  Brown- 
ing's name  was  called,  and  Bruce  got  up  lazily  from  the 
ground  and  walked  slowly  into  position.  Bruce  disliked 
a  light  gun,  and  carried  a  heavy  ten-gage,  notwith- 
standing the  fact  that  trap-shooting  rules  required  the 
users  of  such  guns  to  shoot  from  a  longer  distance. 
He  believed  that  the  heavier  weight  and  heavier  load 
more  than  offset  this. 

Danny  stuck  his  fingers  into  his  ears  as  Bruce  stood 
ready  to  fire  the  "cannon."  Then  there  was  a  thunderous 
report,  as  the  clay  bird  flew  through  the  air,  and  was 
knocked  to  pieces  by  the  impact  of  the  shot. 

"Was  it  an  earthquake?"  asked  Bink,  falling  back  on 
the  ground.  "He'll  be  wanting  to  shoot  a  Krupp  gun 
next!" 


Shooting.  101 

"Watch  me  this  time !"  said  Danny,  as  he  stepped  into 
position.  "It's  easier  for  me  to  do  difficult  things.  If 
those  traps  would  only  throw  out  a  dozen  birds  at  once, 
I'd  show  you  some  nice  work !" 

"Yes,  you  might  get  one  out  of  the  whole  flock,"  said 
Diamond.  "If  it  was  a  very  dense  flock,  you  might  get 
two." 

Ten  rounds  had  been  fired,  and  two  birds  were  to  be 
thrown  now  at  the  same  time  at  unknown  angles. 

"Ready?"  asked  the  boy. 

"Pull !"  commanded  Danny,  throwing  up  his  gun. 

The  birds  flew,  but  Danny  did  not  shoot. 

"I  thought  one  was  going  to  jump  out  of  the  right- 
hand  trap,"  he  grinned,  "and  it  didn't." 

"Give  him  another  chance,"  said  Dismal.  "He  oughtn't 
to  be  forgiven  for  anything,  but  we'll  forgive  him." 

"Spit  on  your  hands !"  some  one  yelled. 

Danny  put  down  his  gun,  very  deliberately  spat  on 
his  hands,  then  took  up  his  gun  again. 

"Pull!"  he  commanded. 

Two  birds  flew — one  from  the  right-hand  trap  and 
one  from  the  middle  trap.  Bang!  bang!  Danny  fired 
at  both,  but  the  birds  sailed  on  and  descended  in  the 
grass. 

"These  shells  aren't  any  good!"  he  asserted,  looking1 
wonderingly  into  the  powder-stained  barrels  of  the  gun. 
"Or  else  this  gun  isn't  choked  right  for  trap  shooting. 
I  held  on  both  of  those  birds." 


102  Shooting. 

"You  mean  you  aren't  choked  right  for  trap  shoot- 
ing," said  Bink,  as  Danny  came  back. 

"I'll  choke  you!"  Danny  cried,  hurling  himself  on 
Stubbs  and  gripping  him  by  the  throat. 

"Stop  it!"  commanded  Bruce,  as  they  struggled  on 
the  grass.  "If  you  don't,  we'll  fire  you  out  of  the  crowd." 

Jack  Diamond  did  the  best  shooting  this  time,  cleanly 
killing  both  birds.  Merriwell  and  others  struck  both 
birds,  but  Diamond  made  the  cleanest  kill.  Danny 
ambled  out  again  with  his  repeater,  and  this  time  brought 
down  a  bird. 

"Talk  about  easy  things!"  he  spouted,  thrusting  out 
his  chest  as  he  pranced  back. 

"That's  right!"  howled  Bink.  "You're  the  easiest 
thing  on  the  planet.  That  bird  was  broken  and  all  ready 
to  fall  to  pieces  when  it  left  the  trap.  I  paid  the  boy 
to  fix  it  for  you." 

"You're  another!"  Danny  declared.  "I  hit  that  bird 
fair  and  square.  See  if  you  can  do  better." 

"I'm  going  to  hit  both!"  Bink  declared,  and  for  a 
wonder  he  did. 

"Take  me  home  to  mommer !"  squealed  Danny. 

"Talk  about  shooting!"  exclaimed  Bink,  sticking  his 
hat  on  the  back  of  his  head.  "What's  the  matter  with 
that,  eh?" 

"Oh,  you're  a  wonder!"  exclaimed  Danny.  "Acci- 
dents are  bound  to  happen  sometimes,  you  know."  ^ , 


Shooting.  103 

Browning  made  clean  misses,  and  Diamond  got  only 
one  bird.  The  shooting  of  most  of  the  others  was  not 
of  the  best. 

"I  suppose  there  isn't  any  way  to  clip  the  wings  of 
those  things?"  grumbled  Dismal,  who  had  missed. 
"They  get  up  and  get  away  so  fast  that  I  can't  pull  on 
them  half  the  time.  I  could  hit  my  bird  if  I  could  find 
it.  But  when  I  point  my  gun  at  it  and  pull  the  trigger, 
it  isn't  there." 

"Pull  ahead  of  it,"  Merriwell  advised. 

"Yes,  you  must  use  ahead  work,"  said  Bink.  "If  you 
have  a  head,  that  is  what  it's  for.  That's  the  way  I  did, 
and  you  saw  the  result.  I  can  get  'em  every  time  now." 

As  the  shooting  continued,  it  was  seen  that  Badger 
was  doing  good  work,  though  nothing  at  all  phenomenal. 
He  stepped  into  position  with  an  air  of  confidence,  fired 
quickly,  and  then  stepped  back.  But  he  kept  away  from 
Merriwell's  crowd,  mingling  with  others  from  Yale  whom 
he  knew. 

Hodge's  score  and  the  Westerner's  were  nearly  alike. 
Hodge  saw  it  and  squirmed.  Then  Merriwell,  who  had 
made  only  one  miss,  scored  two  "goose  eggs,"  and 
Badger  climbed  up  to  him. 

"I  don't  like  that,"  Bart  grumbled.  "You're  not  do- 
ing your  best,  Merry.  Badger  may  beat  you." 

Merriwell  was  cleaning  out  and  cooling  his  gun — 
Bart's  gun — which  both  were  using,  and  which  had 


IO4  Shooting, 

grown  hot  and  foul  from  rapid  firing.  The  first  round 
of  twenty  shots  was  nearing  its  close.  Only  four  more 
shots  were  to  be  fired  in  it,  at  two  pairs  of  birds.  Badger 
had  to  his  credit  thirteen  hits  and  three  misses,  and 
Merriwell  the  same. 

"If  you  should  miss  one  of  the  four  and  Badger 
should  hit  them  all  you  would  be  beaten!"  Bart  urged 
uneasily.  "And  I  don't  want  you  to  be  beaten  by  him. 
I'm  afraid  you  are  going  to  tie.  I  want  you  to  beat  him. 
I  can't  stand  it  to  have  him  crowing  round." 

Merriwell  smiled  placidly. 

"Don't  steam  so,  Hodge.  It  just  heats  you  up,  and 
makes  you  unhappy.  If  Buck  Badger  should  beat  me, 
I  don't  see  that  it  would  make  a  great  difference.  I 
haven't  been  shooting  for  a  record  this  afternoon." 

"All  right,"  said  Hodge.  "However  good  your  in- 
tentions may  be,  that  fellow  will  never  give  you  honest 
credit  for  them." 

The  shooting  had  recommenced,  and  Hodge  walked 
back  to  the  crowd,  plainly  disgruntled. 

Merriwell  clutched  a  handful  of  shells  and  went  over 
to  Badger. 

"Try  these,  Buck!"  he  said.  "They're  a  good  deal 
better  than  those  you've  been  using.  I  had  them  loaded 
very  carefully  under  my  own  supervision  for  this  kind 
of  work,  and  you'll  find  them  very  fine.  They're  just 
suited  to  that  gun,  too.  You  have  really  been  shooting 
at  a  disadvantage  to-day." 


Shooting. 

A  smile  came  to  the  dark  face  of  the  Westerner — a 
stern,  determined  sort  of  smile. 

"Better  not  give  them  to  me,  perhaps,  Merry.  I'm 
going  to  beat  you  if  I  can.  We're  tied  now.  If  you 
miss,  I  shall  get  you.  Better  not  give  me  any  ad- 
vantages." 

"You  can't  beat  me !"  said  Frank,  looking  straight  into 
the  eyes  of  the  Kansan. 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  haven't  been  trying  to  shoot? 
I've  been  watching  you,  and  I  allow  you  have  been  doing 
your  level  best." 

"You  haven't  watched  closely,  then.  I  threw  away 
two  shots  awhile  ago.  I  could  hardly  miss  them  when 
I  tried.  But  I'm  not  anxious  to  beat  any  one  to-day.  I 
didn't  come  out  here  to  make  a  record." 

Badger  flushed. 

"All  right.  Throw  away  another  shot  and  I'll  beat 
you." 

"I'll  not  throw  away  another,  and  you  can't  beat  me, 
though  you  may  tie  me." 

He  was  smiling  and  good-humored,  and  the  Kansan 
tried  to  be. 

Badger  took  the  next  two  straight,  and  Merriwell  did 
the  same. 

"I'm  afraid  he  is  going  to  tie  you !"  grumbled  Hodge. 

"What's  the  score?"  asked  Rattleton,  roused  to  the 
fact  that  Badger  and  Merriwell  were  now  really  shoot- 
ing against  each  other. 


lo6  Shooting. 

"Toodness,  a  guy — I  mean,  goodness,  a  tie !  Don't  let 
him  beat  you,  anyway,  Merry!" 

"That  comes  from  being  too  good-natured,"  growled 
Hodge.  "He  wouldn't  be  anywhere  near  you,  if  you'd 
tried." 

Twice  again  both  brought  down  their  birds.  Only  a 
pair  was  left  now  to  each.  Every  member  of  the  gun 
club  present,  together  with  those  who,  like  Badger,  were 
being  permitted  to  shoot  through  the  favor  of  members, 
and  all  the  spectators,  as  well,  knew  now  that  Badger 
and  Merriwell  had  finally  pitted  themselves  against  each 
other  in  a  friendly  shooting  contest,  with  the  chances 
in  favor  of  a  tie. 

Hodge  was  hardly  able  to  breathe,  and  Harry  Rat- 
tleton  was  fidgeting  uneasily.  The  spectators  craned 
their  necks  as  Badger,  whose  trial  came  first,  walked 
into  position  with  an  air  of  easy  confidence,  that  dark, 
determined  smile  disfiguring  his  face. 

"I'm  afraid  your  chances  are  gone,  Merriwell !"  droned 
Dismal  Jones.  "  'We  never  miss  the  water  till  the  well 
runs  dry.' " 

"Keep  still,"  grunted  Browning,  "or  you'll  make  me 
nervous !" 

"I  wish  somebody  would  make  Badger  nervous!" 
wailed  Bink. 

"Sing  out  that  a  queen  bee  is  coming  for  him!"  urged 
Danny,  in  an  undertone. 


Shooting.  107 

"Keep  still!"  said  Merriwell. 

Badger  balanced  his  gun,  called  "Pull!"  and  threw  it 
into  position  as  the  birds  sprang  from  the  trap. 

A  deafening  explosion  followed.  The  gun  was  torn 
to  pieces  and  Badger  was  hurled  backward  to  the  ground. 


CHAPTER  X. 
BADGER'S  CHALLENGE. 

Merriwell  and  others  sprang  toward  him  to  offer  their 
aid.  Frank  could  hardly  believe  what  he  had  seen  and 
heard.  He  feared  Badger  was  seriously  or  fatally  in- 
jured, but  was  relieved  before  he  reached  the  Kansan  to 
see  the  latter  rise  unsteadily  to  his  feet. 

Badger  looked  dazedly  about,  then  down  at  his  numbed 
left  hand  and  arm.  They  felt  dead,  and  he  could  hardly 
lift  them.  But  he  saw  they  were  not  mangled. 

"I  hope  you  are  not  hurt!"  Frank  exclaimed. 

The  blood  rushed  in  a  great  wave  into  the  Westerner's 
dark  face,  and  he  gave  Frank  a  strange  look. 

"Your  gun  has  gone  to  pieces!"  he  said  gruffly. 

"But  I  hope  you  are  not  hurt.  There  are  other  guns. 
I  don't  understand  how  it  happened." 

There  was  a  suspicious  light  in  Badger's  eyes. 

"I'll  not  be  able  to  beat  you,"  he  said.  "I  don't  know 
that  I  can  shoot  again,  and  it's  a  wonder,  I  reckon,  that 
my  arm  wasn't  torn  off." 

He  turned  toward  the  exploded  gun.  The  stock  was 
uninjured  and  the  lock  mechanism,  but  the  muzzle  end 
of  the  right  barrel  was  split  open  and  a  section  blown 
out  of  it. 

"You  didn't  get  mud  or  anything  of  that  kind  in  the 


Badger's   Challenge.  109 

muzzle?"  Merriwell  questioned,  anxiously  examining  the 
ruined  weapon.  "That  will  sometimes  make  a  gun  ex- 
plode." 

"None  whatever!"  Badger  grumbled,  nursing  his 
numbed  hand  and  arm,  while  a  crowd  gathered  round 
him  and  Merriwell,  asking  excited  and  eager  questions. 
"Do  you  think  I'm  fool  enough  to  do  a  thing  like  that?" 

Frank  plucked  at  Rattleton's  arm. 

"Take  charge  of  that  box  of  shells,"  he  said,  in  an  un- 
dertone. "Don't  let  any  one  touch  them.  The  box  from 
which  I  took  the  shells  for  Badger !  I'm  afraid  the  shells 
in  it  have  been  tampered  with." 

"Agnew !"  Rattleton  gasped.  "He's  somewhere  on  the 
grounds,  you  know,  and  he  was  right  up  here  awhile 
ago!" 

"I  don't  know.  It  may  be.  We  can  tell  better  later. 
Just  now,  take  charge  of  that  box.  No  more  shells  must 
be  used  out  of  it,  nor  out  of  any  others  of  mine." 

"All  right!"  Rattleton  promised,  and  moved  quickly 
away. 

•'How  is  your  hand  and  arm?"  Merriwell  asked,  again 
addressing  Badger. 

"Well,  I  allow  it's  good  enough  to  do  some  more 
shooting!"  Badger  snarled,  giving  Hodge  a  suspicious 
glance.  "You  didn't  beat  me !  I  missed  that  bird ;  but 
the  gun  blew  up  was  the  reason.  I'll  shoot  you  those 
two,  yet;  but  I'd  rather  try  you  ten  birds  straight — ten 


1 10  Badger's   Challenge. 

double  rises,  just  the  kind  we  were  shooting  at.  I  reckon 
we'd  better  settle  this  thing  square!" 

There  was  something  very  unpleasant  in  his  tone 
and  manner.  Hodge  saw  the  glance,  heard  the  words, 
and  could  hardly  resist  the  temptation  to  walk  up  and 
knock  him  down. 

"The  scoundrel!"  he  hissed  to  Browning.  "What  is 
he  driving  at?  Does  he  mean  that  Merry  hasn't  given 
him  a  fair  deal,  or  that  he  had  the  gun  explode  in  some 
way  to  keep  from  being  tied  by  him,  or  beaten  ?  Perhaps 
he  is  hinting  crooked  work  against  me !  If  he  does,  I'll 
punch  his  head,  sure.  Frank  is  a  fool  to  stand  such 
stuff." 

Merriwell  showed  a  slight  trace  of  annoyance.  He 
took  Badger  by  the  arm  and  they  walked  aside  together. 
A  dozen  men  were  examining  the  gun,  and  a  score  more 
were  craning  their  necks  to  get  a  look  at  it,  while  all 
sorts  of  excited  conjectures  and  comments  filled  the  air. 

"See  here,  Badger,"  said  Merriwell,  somewhat  sternly. 
"You  think  Hodge  may  be  responsible  for  that  accident. 
He  isn't — no  more  than  I  am!  You  either  had  mud  in 
the  gun " 

"Or  something  was  the  matter  with  the  shells!" 

"Exactly.  That  is  what  I  was  going  to  say,  if  you 
had  let  me  finish  the  sentence.  No  more  shells  will 
be  used  out  of  that  box.  They  may  have  been  tampered 
iwith,  but  not  by  Hodge.  I  know  Hodge !  He  wouldn't 
do  such  a  thing." 


Badger's  Challenge.  ill 

"I  reckon  that  he  is  none  too  good  for  that,  if  he 
had  a  chance !" 

"Hodge  is  my  friend." 

"I  don't  care  if  he  is  your  friend  a  dozen  times  over. 
That  might  have  killed  me,  or  crippled  me  for  life !" 

"If  those  shells  were  tampered  with,  it  was  done  for 
my  benefit,  Badger,  and  not  for  yours.  Hodge  wouldn't 
put  in  shells  that  would  endanger  me.  I  gave  you  those 
shells  out  of  my  own  box." 

"And  Hodge  was  talking  to  you,  and  knew  what  you 
meant  to  do.  He  could  have  juggled  a  fixed-up  shell  on 
you." 

"We  won't  talk  about  it!"  said  Merriwell,  turning 
away. 

"I've  a  right  to  think  what  I  please,"  Badger  grumbled, 
following  him.  "He  thinks  you  can  beat  me  shooting. 
He  was  afraid  I  would.  I  can  beat  you,  and  I'd  like  to 
do  it,  to  spite  Bart  Hodge." 

"I  don't  think  you  are  in  any  condition  to  do  more 
shooting." 

"Oh,  I'm  all  right!"  Badger  rather  snappishly  de- 
clared, his  heart  hot  against  Hodge.  "Don't  let  any- 
thing of  that  kind  worry  you,  Merriwell  I  want  to  shoot 
at  ten  double  rises  against  you — ten  double  rises  at  un- 
known angles.  You've  declared  that  you  haven't  tried  to 
shoot.  I  dare  you  to  give  me  this  trial.  The  numbness 
is  going  out  of  my  arm,  and  it  will  soon  be  all  right. 
And  I  warn  you  not  to  throw  away  any  shots  1" 


H2  Badger's  Challenge. 

They  were  near  the  excited  crowd. 

"All  right,  Buckrum !"  Merriwell  answered.  "I'll  try 
you,  if  you're  so  anxious!" 

"We'll  buy  shells  here.    And  that  gun " 

"Perhaps  you  think  there  was  something  the  matter 
with  the  gun?" 

"Oh,  I'll  buy  you  another  gun!"  growled  Badger. 

Frank  flushed. 

"The  impudence  of  the  fellow!"  grunted  Browning, 
who  overheard  the  remark.  Hodge,  who  was  standing 
near  Browning,  heard  it,  too. 

"I  wish  you'd  hit  him,  Merry!"  he  panted. 

"No  doubt  you'd  like  to  do  that,"  said  Badger.  "But 
I'd  advise  you  not  to  try." 

"Mr.  Badger  and  I  are  going  to  shoot  at  ten  double 
birds,"  said  Frank,  pretending  not  to  notice  these  things. 
"I  will  use  your  gun,  Bart." 

"And  Badger  may  use  mine,"  said  a  sophomore,  who 
was  one  of  Badger's  friends,  and  had  been  one  of  Mer- 
riwell's  enemies.  "But  for  goodness  sake,  don't  use  any 
more  dynamite  shells!" 

Merriwell  saw  that  Morton  Agnew  had  come  up  and 
was  looking  earnestly  at  Badger  and  at  the  ruined  gun. 

"I  wonder  that  Badger  doesn't  remember  that  you 
slipped  a  'fixed'  cartridge  into  a  gun  for  him  once,"  was 
Frank's  thought.  "You  are  at  the  bottom  of  this,  and 
you»  villainy  has1  gone  far  enough.  When  I  come  to 
strike  >ou  I  shall  strike  hard !" 


Badger's  Challenge.  113 

The  shattered  gun  still  furnished  attraction  for  many, 
and  Agnew  pushed  forward  to  get  a  close  look  at  it,  and 
to  ask  questions.  Rattleton  came  up  to  Merriwell  with 
the  box  of  loaded  shells. 

"They  are  not  all  just  alike,  Merry !"  he  declared.  "I 
have  been  looking  them  over.  See !" 

He  took  up  three  of  the  shells  and  exhibited  them  to 
Frank.  A  casual  glance  would  show  no  difference  be- 
tween them  and  the  other  shells  in  the  box.  But  a 
close  inspection  showed  that  the  brass  did  not  go  up 
quite  so  high  on  the  paper. 

"I  am  sure  that  all  the  shells  in  the  box  were  just 
alike/'  said  Merry.  "Those  were  slipped  in  there.  Keep 
them  safe." 

"But  what  if  they  blow  me  up?"  Rattleton  gasped. 
"I'm  afraid  of  the  things.  Some  of  the  fellows  are  say- 
ing there  was  dynamite  in  the  shell  that  tore  up  the 
gun!" 

"There  is  no  danger,  I  think.  Take  care  of  them, 
and  see  that  the  other  boxes  are  not  tampered  with. 
Watch  Morton  Agnew." 

"Let  your  bife  I'll  watch  him!  And  he  has  been 
watching  me!  I  caught  him  at  it  awhile  ago!" 

"I  think  Agnew  fixed  up  some  shells  to  kill  or  maim 
me,"  said  Frank.  "No  doubt  he  would  give  a  great  deal 
to  get  the  unused  ones  away.  Look  out  for  him." 

Then  Merriwell  went  back  to  the  crowd,  where  Badger 


H4  Badger's  Challenge. 

was  exhibiting  his  benumbed  arm  and  hand,  and  eae- 
plaining  how  it  felt  to  have  a  gun  burst  in  one's  fingers. 

"Are  you  ready?"  he  asked.     "I  am." 

"Yes,"  Frank  answered. 

It  was  strange  how  the  fellows  on  the  shooting-grounds 
ranged  themselves  into  two  companies — the  supporters 
of  Merriwell  in  one  knot  and  the  supporters  of  the  Kan- 
san  in  the  other.  It  was  as  if  an  invisible  hand  had  gone 
through  the  crowd  and  separated  Merriwell's  friends 
from  his  foes.  About  Badger  gathered  Walter  Gordan, 
Bertrand  Defarge,  Morton  Agnew,  Gil  Cowles,  Mat  Mul- 
len, Lib  Benson,  Newt  Billings,  Chan  Webb,  and  more  of 
the  same  sort,  a  number  of  them  now  Merriwell's  pre- 
tended friends,  but  all  at  heart  his  enemies.  While  about 
Merriwell  swarmed  his  friends  tried  and  true,  with 
Hodge,  Browning,  Diamond,  Rattleton,  Gamp,  Bink,  and 
Dismal  close  to  his  person. 

"Don't  monkey  with  him,"  urged  Bart,  as  Merriwell 
sent  Danny  and  Bink  away  for  some  shells  and  began  to 
wipe  out  Bart's  gun  in  readiness  for  the  shooting-contest. 
"Don't  throw  away  any  shots.  Show  those  cads  what 
you  can  do.  A  lot  of  them  are  beginning  to  think  that 
Badger  is  really  a  better  man  than  you  are.  If  he  defeats 
you " 

"He'll  never  defeat  Merriwell!"  asserted  Rattleton. 
"Come  off  the  dump !" 

"Of  course  he  can't !"  added  Diamond. 

"There  are  no  dead-sure  things,"  droned  Dismal.  "I've 


Badger's  Challenge.  115 

been  enticed  into  squandering  good  dollars  on  several 
dead-sure  things.  I've  got  more  sense  and  less  dollars." 

"Wait  and  see !"  sputtered  Rattleton. 

"Who  is  to  shoot  first?"  Badger  asked,  walking  toward 
Merriwell's  crowd. 

Badger  had  noticed  the  character  of  the  fellows  who 
had  gathered  round  him,  and  he  was  nettled.  On  the 
outskirts  he  even  saw  the  face  of  Donald  Pike — once  his 
friend,  now  hated  by  him  as  a  foe. 

"Suit  yourself,"  Merriwell  answered. 

"We'll  flip  a  coin,"  said  Badger. 

One  of  the  sophomores  drew  out  a  half-dollar  and 
twirled  it  in  the  air. 

"I'll  take  heads!"  said  Merry. 

But  the  head  of  the  coin  fell  downward,  and  Badger, 
taking  the  gun  given  him,  walked  out  to  the  line  and 
faced  the  traps. 

"We  will  have  no  signaling,"  he  said,  turning  round 
and  facing  Merriwell's  crowd.  "As  we  step  up  here,  let 
the  traps  be  sprung,  and  we'll  shoot  at  the  birds,  whether 
ready  or  not." 

He  was  supremely  confident  in  his  own  abilities. 

"All  right.     Any  way  to  suit  you.     Go  ahead !" 

Before  Badger  could  turn  back,  he  heard  the  sound 
made  by  the  traps  springing.  Two  birds  shot  out,  one 
toward  the  right  and  the  other  straight  away. 

Bang!  bang!     Badger  wheeled  and  fired  quickly,  and 


n6  Badger's  Challenge. 

made  a  clean  kill  of  both  birds.  There  was  a  skirmisB 
fire  of  clapping  hands  in  the  circle  of  his  admirers. 

"Fine  work!"  Merriwell  admitted,  as  he  stepped  into 
place  with  Bart's  gun. 

He  stood  with  his  gun  down  until  the  birds  were 
hurled  from  the  traps,  then,  with  a  couple  of  quick  snap- 
shots, smashed  them  to  pieces. 

"Whoop-e-ee-ee !"  squealed  Danny  Griswold,  turning  a 
handspring.  "This  soft  snap  can  shoot  a  little!" 

Again  the  Westerner  made  a  clean  kill  of  two  birds. 
Frank  followed  him  and  did  the  same. 

Five  times  more  the  Kansan  did  this,  and  Merriwell 
duplicated  the  performance.  The  antagonistic  crowds 
ceased  to  whoop  and  shout  their  exclamations  of  pleasure. 
The  thing  was  becoming  interesting.  It  began  to  seem 
that  Badger  and  Merriwell  would  again  tie.  Then  Bad- 
ger, becoming  overconfident,  missed  a  bird.  He  stepped 
back,  with  a  look  of  chagrin  on  his  face. 

Frank  stepped  forward,  pitched  up  his  gun  as  the  birds 
were  thrown — and  missed  one !  Merriwell  missed  with 
the  left  barrel  of  his  gun,  and  Badger  had  missed  with  the 
left  barrel. 

"Now  you're  monkeying !"  Hodge  grumbled,  as  Merri- 
well retired  into  the  circle  of  his  friends.  "Don't  do  it, 
Merry!  What  did  you  do  that  for?  You  could  have 
made  the  whole  string  straight,  without  a  single  goose- 
egg!" 

Badger's  dark,  heavy  face  was  flushed  as  he  advanced 


Badger's  Challenge.  117 

again  into  position.  He  felt,  like  Hodge,  that  Merriwell 
had  purposely  missed  that  second  bird,  and  it  annoyed 
and  angered  him.  This  was  the  worst  possible  thing  that 
could  have  happened  to  him,  for  when  he  fired  he  again 
missed  a  bird. 

"Don't  imitate  him  again !"  Hodge  implored. 

And  Merriwell  did  not.  He  made  a  clean  kill  of  both 
birds. 

"Only  two  more  birds  apiece,  and  Merry  one  ahead!" 
squealed  Bink,  vainly  tiptoeing  to  see  as  well  as  those 
who  were  taller. 

"You  want  to  see  Merry  do  him  up?"  said  Bruce. 
"You  little  runt,  I'll  take  pity  on  you!" 

"Me,  too !"  squeaked  Danny. 

With  little  apparent  exertion  of  strength,  Browning 
hoisted  the  little  fellows  to  his  shoulders,  thus  elevating 
them  above  the  heads  of  others,  where  they  sat  in  great 
glee,  squealing  and  laughing,  Danny  on  the  young  giant's 
right  shoulder  and  Bink  on  his  left,  as  Badger  walked  out 
to  shoot  at  his  last  two  birds. 

Again  the  Westerner  killed  his  birds. 

"Now,  if  Merry  misses  one,  it  will  be  another  tie!'* 
grunted  Bart. 

"Stop  hawking  through  your  tat — I  mean Oh,  I 

don't  know  what  I  mean!  But  just  keep  still!"  Rattle- 
ton  almost  breathlessly  begged.  "Merry  is  all  right !" 

And  Rattleton's  confidence  was  justified.  Merry  fired, 
with  the  same  result 


Ii8  Badger's  Challenge. 

"Pulverized  'em !"  howled  Bink. 

"Smashed  'em  into  bug-dust !"  squealed  Danny. 

"Bub-bub-beat  Badger  again !"  sputtered  Gamp. 

A  cheer  of  gratification  went  up  from  the  circle  of 
Frank's  friends.  Merriwell  motioned  to  Rattleton  to 
bring  him  some  shells. 

"Bring  me  Danny's  gun,  too!"  he  called;  and  Harry 
ran  out  to  him  with  a  box  of  shells  that  he  knew  were 
reliable  and  with  Griswold's  repeating  shotgun. 

"All  three  traps  at  once !"  said  Merriwell  to  the  trap 
manipulators. 

Three  birds  flew  at  the  same  moment  of  time. 

Bang!  bang!  bang! 

Badger  in  his  best  shooting  at  two  birds  had  never 
made  cleaner  kills.  The  clay  birds  seemed  to  vanish  in 
puffs  of  dust  at  the  crack  of  the  gun.  Merriwell  put 
down  Danny's  repeater,  and  took  up  Bart's  gun. 

"Three  birds  again !"  he  commanded,  as  he  dropped  in 
the  two  shells  and  closed  the  breech  with  a  click. 

Almost  before  the  words  were  out  of  his  mouth,  the 
birds  were  thrown. 

Bang!  bang!  bang! 

He  killed  the  left  and  center  birds  with  the  two  loads 
in  the  gun ;  then  reloaded  and  killed  the  third  bird  before 
it  could  touch  the  ground ! 

Badger's  face  grew  redder.  There  was  a  wild  clap- 
ping of  hands,  joined  in  by  many  who  were  in  Badger's 
crowd. 


Badger's  Challenge.  119 

"Whoop-ee-e-ee !"  squealed  Danny,  wildly  waving  his 
cap.  "Who  says  we  can't  shoot?" 

They  had  been  shooting  at  a  rise  of  twenty-five  yards. 
Merriwell  stepped  back  five  yards,  thus  increasing  the  dis- 
tance to  thirty.  He  loaded  his  gun  and  held  an  extra 
shell  in  his  left  hand.  Then  he  turned  his  back  on  the 
traps. 

"Pull  when  you  want  to?"  he  called. 

The  manipulators  of  the  traps  seemed  to  desire  to  test 
him.  There  was  an  exasperating  delay  and  some  ques- 
tions; then  the  traps  were  sprung  with  startling  sud- 
denness. 

Merriwell's  quick  ear  was  alert.  He  wheeled  as  if  on 
a  pivot,  killed  the  left  bird  and  the  right  one.  Then 
dropped  in  another  shell  with  a  slowness  that  set  Bart 
Hodge  wild,  and  killed  the  third  bird,  which  had  gone 
off  at  a  difficult  tangent,  at  a  distance  of  at  least  sixty 
yards ! 

"Come  on !"  grated  Defarge,  almost  beside  himself  with 
anger  and  disappointment.  "The  devil  can't  beat  him! 
Let's  get  out  of  here !" 

"Right!"  said  Pike,  also  turning  wrathfully  away. 
Badger  seemed  turned  to  a  statue. 

Then  again  the  unexpected  happened.  A  sophomore, 
who  was  known  to  be  an  intimate  friend  of  Morton  Ag- 
new,  by  seeming  accident  fired  off  a  gun  with  which  he 
had  been  monkeying.  Agnew,  who  had,  unnoticed, 
wormed  his  way  into  Merriwell's  crowd  dming  the  ex- 


I2O  Badger's  Challenge. 

citement  of  the  shooting-contest,  fell  to  the  ground  with 
a  cry,  as  if  shot,  knocking  Harry  Rattleton  over  as  he 
did  so. 

The  shells  which  Harry  had  been  so  carefully  guard- 
ing were  scattered  on  the  ground,  and  seemed  likely  to 
be  stepped  on  and  lost  in  the  excitement  that  followed. 

Agnew  flounced  and  threshed  about,  crying  out  that 
he  was  shot.  He  was  anxiously  lifted  up,  and  on  his  face 
was  seen  a  drop  of  blood,  which  had  come  from  a  cut 
recently  made. 

"One  shot  went  in  right  there!"  he  cried.  "I  think 
there  are  others  !  Get  me  into  a  carriage  quick !" 

A  half-dozen  young  fellows  ran  for  the  nearest  car- 
riage, toward  which  Agnew  was  conducted  as  rapidly  as 
possible.  Harry  Rattleton  seemed  dazed,  and  began  to 
look  about  on  the  ground  as  the  crowd  thinned  out  there. 
'Merriwell  hurried  to  him. 

"What's  the  matter  ?"  he  anxiously  asked. 

"The  shells  were  knocked  out  of  my  hands!"  gasped 
Rattleton.  "And  not  half  of  them  seem  to  be  here !" 

Merriwell's  look  became  anxious.  He  stooped  down 
with  Harry  and  began  to  gather  up  the  shells. 

"A  shrewd  trick,  but  it  didn't  work !"  he  exclaimed, 
holding  up  a  cartridge.  "Here  is  one  of  those  that  were 
fixed  for  me,  anyway.  And  now  I  know  that  Agnew  did 
it,  and  that  he  intended  to  kill  me !" 

The  other  shells  which  Agnew  had  prepared  were  gone, 
having  been  gathered  up  in  the  midst  of  the  tumult  and 


Badger's   Challenge.  121 

excitement  and  cleverly  slipped  by  Agnew  into  his 
pockets. 

"Who  fired  that  shot?"  Merriwell  asked. 

"I  don't  know !" 

Others  were  gathering  round. 

"He  tried  to  kill  me,  Harry,  and  I  shall  strike  back. 
And  when  I  strike  I  shall  strike  in  a  way  to  make  the 
stroke  felt!" 


CHAPTER  XI. 

FRANK   PREVENTS  TROUBLE. 

Badger's  belief  that  Hodge  had  juggled  the  shell  which 
exploded  in  the  gun  was  not  very  strong  when  he  left 
the  grounds  of  the  gun  club,  but  his  hatred  of  Hodge  was 
not  in  any  degree  lessened  thereby.  Only  by  a  supreme 
exercise  of  will-power  had  he  been  able  to  keep  himself 
from  rushing  upon  Bart  when  the  latter  made  his  bitter 
comments  to  Merry. 

i  "Merriwell  is  all  right,  but  Hodge  isn't  even  a  piece  of 
a  man!"  he  growled,  as  he  made  his  way  home,  his 
thoughts  in  a  chaotic  state.  "I  shall  have  to  punch  his 
head  for  him.  Merry  wouldn't  have  beat  me  shooting  if 
I  had  taken  my  own  gun  along!  I  reckon  I  was  a  fool 
for  going  into  the  thing.  Hodge  isn't  any  too  good  to 
slip  that  shell  in  on  Merry !  And  if  he  didn't  do  it,  who 
did?  And  I'd  like  to  know  what  was  in  it?  That's 
whatever !" 

i  Bart's  feelings  against  the  Westerner  were  quite  as  bit- 
ter. He  almost  hated  the  ground  on  which  Badger's 
shadow  fell.  It  seemed  unlikely  that  Frank  could  ever 
reconcile  these  two  antagonistic  characters. 

Bart  was  sore  also  about  the  way  Frank's  friends  were 
treating  him.  Nor  was  the  feeling  lessened  by  his  own 
inner  conviction  that  he  had  dealt  rather  shabbily  with 


Frank  Prevents  Trouble.  123 

one  who  had  been  as  true  a  friend  to  him  as  Merry  had 
been,  and  that  the  other  members  of  the  "flock"  had 
good  grounds  for  looking  on  him  with  disfavor. 

"I  shall  never  crawl  on  my  knees  for  the  friendship 
and  good-will  of  any  of  them !"  was  his  thought,  as  he 
turned  a  corner  on  his  way  to  the  lighted  campus,  on  the 
evening  of  the  second  day  after  the  shooting.  "And  as 
for  Badger " 

He  ran  violently  against  a  man  and  was  hurled  back- 
ward. The  man  was  Badger. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  the  Westerner  de- 
manded, for  he,  also,  had  been  almost  knocked  from  his 
feet,  and  he,  too,  had  been  feeding  his  hot  anger  with  in- 
flammatory thoughts  against  Bart.  "You  did  that  on  pur- 
pose !" 

Hodge  lunged  at  the  Kansan's  face.  But  the  blow  did 
not  fall.  The  fist  was  knocked  down,  and  a  strong  grasp 
on  his  shoulder  turned  him  half-round. 

"Stop  this !"  came  sternly  from  Frank  Merriwell,  who 
was  also  on  his  way  to  the  campus. 

"Let  me  get  at  him!"  Bart  panted,  trying  to  wrench 
away.  "He  ran  into  me  and  tried  to  knock  me  down 
just  now.  I  can't  stand  it!  I  won't  stand  it!" 

"Oh,  let  him  come  on!"  the  Westerner  grated.  "I've 
been  aching  for  a  crack  at  him  for  a  month !  I'll  polish 
him  off  in  short  order,  if  you  will  just  let  him  come  on ! 
He  thinks  because  he  knocked  me  out  once  that  he  can 
do  it  again!" 


124  Frank  Prevents  Trouble. 

"If  you  fellows  are  determined  to  fight,  I'll  arrange 
for  you  to  get  at  each  other  some  time,  but  you  are  not 
going  to  fight  here,  and  that  is  flat!" 

"Oh,  well,  let  it  go !"  said  Bart,  with  intense  bitterness 
and  disgust  "I'll  not  trouble  him  here.  But  if  we  ever 
do  come  up  against  each  other,  I'll  hammer  the  life  out 
of  him!" 

"I  don't  doubt  you'd  kill  me  if  you  could !"  the  Kansan 
sneered.  "I  rather  think  you  tried  it  the  other  day." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  Bart  demanded,  again  bristling. 
"Do  you  mean;  the  shell  that  blew  up  the  gun  ?" 

"It's  strange  you  can  guess  so  easy!"  Badger  insinu- 
ated. 

"See  here,  Baftger,"  said  Frank,  who  had  stepped  be- 
tween the  belligerents.  "You  insult  me  when  you  inti- 
mate that  Bart  knew  anything  about  that  shell.  That 
shell  was  slipped  into  my  box  by  Morton  Agnew.  I  have 
discovered  enough  already  to  convince  me  of  that.  1 
saw  him  do  something  to-day,  too,  which  puts  a  big 
club  into  my  hand !" 

Badger's  face  changed,  but  he  would  not  admit  that 
he  might  be  wrong  in  laying  the  dastardly  deed  at  the 
door  of  Bart  Hodge. 

"When  you've  got  the  proof,  I'll  look  at  it,"  he  doubt- 
ingly  remarked,  turning  about. 

"Oh,  don't  talk  to  him  1"  Hodge  growled.  "I  wouldn't 
waste  words  on  him." 


Frank  Prevents  Trouble.  125 

"I'll  hammer  your  face  for  this  some  day!"  Badger 
panted,  turning  back. 

"It's  right  here,  ready  for  the  hammering  whenever  you 
get  ready  to  try  it!"  Hodge  snapped,  and  then  moved 
away  with  Merriwell.  Seeing  that  they  were  heading 
toward  the  eampus,  the  Westerner  went  now  in  a  differ- 
ent direction. 

"I  don't  know  why  I  should  let  Merriwell  come  in  and 
interfere  in  that  way,"  he  grumbled.  "I  allow  that  it 
really  was  none  of  his  affair.  But  I  permitted  him  to 
order  me  to  stand  back,  and  I  stood  back.  Of  course, 
I'm  under  obligations  to  him,  and  all  that,  and  he  said 
good  words  to  Winnie  for  me  when  I  seemed  to  need 
them — but,  hang  it  all !  he  isn't  my  boss !  Who  made  him 
my  master  ?  It's  all  right  for  him  to  lead  Hodge  around 
by  the  nose  that  way,  but " 

"Hello !"  came  in  an  inquiring  voice,  and  Badger,  look- 
ing up,  saw  Morton  Agnew.  The  Westerner's  face  took 
on  an  unpleasant  look,  and  he  did  not  answer  the  hail. 

"Don't  be  surly !"  said  Agnew,  coming  boldly  on. 

"What  do  you  want?"  snapped  the  Kansan. 

Then  the  thought  came  to  him  that  it  would  be  a  good 
idea  to  treat  Agnew  with  some  consideration,  for  thereby 
it  -might  be  possible  to  get  the  inside  facts  about  the  shell 
that  ripped  the  gun  open  and  came  so  near  mangling  his 
arm. 

"What  do  you  want?"  he  asked  again,  toning  down 
his  gruffness. 


126  Frank  Prevents  Trouble. 

"I  know  we're  not  friends,"  said  Agnew,  with  the 
suavity  of  a  confidence  man,  "but  that  is  no  reason  why 
we  should  always  remain  foes.  I  saw  you  here,  and  you 
looked  lonesome.  I'm  a  rather  lonesome  bird  myself  to- 
night, so  I  whistled  to  you." 

"I  allow  you've  the  most  gall  of  any  man  I  ever  saw !" 
was  Badger's  thought. 

Aloud,  he  said : 

"We'll  go  down  this  way,  then.  Did  I  look  lonesome? 
Well,  I  wasn't  feeling  any  lonesome,  I  can  tell  you — none 
whatever !" 

"Perhaps  you  object  to  my  company?"  drawing  back. 

Badger  knew  that  this  was  a  piece  of  acting,  and  he 
wanted  to  crack  Agnew  on  the  jaw  for  it.  But  he  held 
himself  in  check.  Really  Badger  seemed  to  be  gaining 
some  self-control — a  thing  that  was  entirely  foreign  to 
him  when  he  first  knew  Merriwell.  He  was  enabled  to 
hold  himself  in  by  the  intense  desire  he  felt  to  discover 
if  Agnew  slipped  the  "fixed"  shell  into  the  box.  That 
was  an  important  point  just  then. 

"Come  along!"  the  Westerner  grunted.  "You  said 
that  you  were  lonesome,  if  I  am  not.  I'm  not  so  hoggish 
as  to  want  to  run  away  from  a  man  who  thinks  he  can 
get  good  out  of  my  company." 

"I  like  to  hear  you  talk  that  way,"  said  Agnew,  linking 
his  arm  in  the  Kansan's. 

The  touch  made  Badger's  flesh  creep,  but  he  held  this 
feeling  in  check,  too. 


Frank  Prevents  Trouble.  127 

*Here's  a  saloon !"  said  Agnew,  after  they  had  walked 
a  considerable  distance  without  saying  anything  of  mo- 
ment. "Let's  go  in.  We  can  talk  in  there.  I  never 
like  to  chatter  much  on  the  street." 

Looking  up,  Badger  saw  that  they  were  in  front  of  a 
•well-known  resort,  which  he  had  entered  more  than  once, 
but  of  which  he  had  recently  fought  shy.  Winnie's  face 
rose  reproachfully  before  him  as  he  stopped  and  looked 
at  the  entrance.  It  almost  drove  him  back. 

"We  can  talk  better  inside,"  Agnew  urged. 

The  Westerner  glanced  hesitatingly  up  and  down  the 
street. 

"All  right,"  he  agreed,  again  feeling  a  fierce  desire  to 
get  at  whatever  knowledge  Agnew  possessed  about  the 
exploding  shell. 

The  proprietor  nodded  familiarly  toward  him  as  he 
walked  in. 

"Glad  to  see  you.     Nice  evening !" 

Badger,  who  was  not  good  at  acting  what  he  did  not 
feel,  mumbled  a  reply. 

"Have  something?"  suggested  Morton,  moving  up  to 
the  bar. 

Badger  pushed  Agnew's  arm  away  and  turned  toward 
a  side  room. 

"No !    I  don't  need  a  drink  to  talk." 

"It  greases  a  fellow's  tongue,"  said  Morton,  with  one 
of  his  persuasive  smiles.  "You  won't  have  anything?" 
as  a  waiter  appeared. 


128  Frank  Prevents  Trouble, 

"Not  to-night." 

"Some  whisky,"  said  Agnew,  and  the  waiter  went 
away,  returning  shortly  with  a  bottle  and  some  glasses. 

"Some  cards !"  said  Agnew,  and  the  waiter  brought  two 
unopened  packs. 

The  Westerner's  brow  grew  black.  He  fancied  he  saw 
through  Agnew's  little  game.  He  believed  that  Agnew, 
who  was  a  card-sharp,  hoped  to  get  him  to  talking,  then 
to  drinking,  and  finally  into  a  game,  and  fleece  him  out 
of  what  money  he  had.  Agnew's  funds  were  low,  and  he 
was  probably  ready  for  any  expedient. 

"We  can  talk  better  over  a  game,"  Agnew  urged,  deftly 
opening  a  pack. 

The  Kansan  pushed  back.  His  blood  was  boiling.  He 
could  hold  in  no  longer. 

"I  allow  you're  a  big  fool,  Agnew,  if  you  think  you 
can  do  me  up  in  that  way !"  he  hotly  declared.  "I've  been 
told  that  you  tried  to  kill  me  the  other  day.  Do  you 
want  to  rob  me,  because  you  failed  in  that?" 

Agnew  grew  white. 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  he  gasped.  "Tried  to 
kill  you?  What  nonsense  is  that?  I  don't  know  what 
you  mean." 

However,  there  was  a  certain  tell-tale  shrinking  in  his 
manner  which  Badger  could  not  fail  to  notice.  It  con- 
vinced the  Westerner  that  Merriwell  was  on  the  right 
track,  and  his  anger  burned  into  deep  rage. 


Frank  Prevents  Trouble.  129 

"I  can  see  from  your  manner  that  you  did.  Agnew, 
you've  got  the  heart  of  a  wolf !  That's  whatever !" 

Agnew  was  truly  playing  a  game,  but  it  was  not  a 
card-game.  He  had  learned  to  hate  Badger.  To  strike 
the  Westerner  pleased  him  now  almost  as  well  as  a  stroke 
against  Merriwell.  He  dropped  the  cards  and  pushed 
back,  as  if  he  feared  the  Kansan  would  leap  at  his  throat. 

" Wh-what  do  you  mean  ?"  he  demanded. 

"On  the  gun-club  grounds!"  said  Badger,  rising  from 
the  table.  "You  slipped  some  dynamite  shells  into  Mer- 
riwell's  box,  and  I  got  one  of  them.  It  came  near  tearing 
my  hand  and  arm  to  pieces,  and  it  might  have  killed  me. 
No  thanks  to  you  that  it  didn't.  Your  intentions  were 
good  enough." 

Agnew  began  to  bluster,  but  in  a  low  tone. 

"I'm  not  used  to  being  accused  of  such  things.  How 
do  you  know  there  was  anything  the  matter  with  the 
shell  ?  Are  you  hunting  for  trouble  ?" 

"That  was  the  trick  of  an  Apache,  Agnew!" 

"Don't  let  the  proprietor  hear  you,"  Agnew  begged, 
and  his  voice  was  again  as  smooth  as  silk.  "What  is 
the  use  of  rowing?  I  say  that  I  did  nothing  of  the 
kind,  and  you're  a  fool  for  thinking  so.  Whoever  hinted 
that  to  you  lied." 

"I  allow  you  might  as  well  say  that  I  lied !" 

Agnew  pushed  toward  the  wall  and  put  his  hands  into 
his  pockets.  Badger,  thinking  he  meant  to  draw  a 
weapon,  gave  him  no  further  time,  but  leaped  on  him 


I3O  Frank  Prevents  Trouble. 

across  the  table  with  the  rush  of  a  cyclone.  Agnew  went 
down  under  that  rush,  but  he  clutched  the  Westerner,  and 
began  to  struggle,  at  the  same  time  sending  up  a  sharp 
call  for  help.  In  a  moment  the  proprietor  and  the  bar- 
tender were  on  the  scene. 

"None  of  this !"  cried  the  proprietor,  grabbing  Bad- 
ger by  the  shoulders,  and,  with  the  bartender's  assistance, 
bod'ily  dragging  him  off  the  threshing,  writhing  form  of 
Agnew.  Morton  did  not  seem  in  any  hurry  to  be  re- 
leased Nor  rescued,  however,  and  hung  to  Badger's  coat 
and  vest  with  the  tenacity  of  the  under  dog  that  fails  to 
appreciate  the  fact  that  it  is  overmatched. 

"No  fighting  in  here!"  panted  the  proprietor.  "This 
ain't  no  boxing-club !  See !  I'm  glad  to  have  gents  come 
in  and  make  themselves  to  home,  but  I  can't  allow  any 
fighting !" 

Agnew  slid  toward  the  door,  seeming  anxious  to  escape. 
The  next  moment  he  was  out  in  the  barroom,  and  then 
he  vanished  into  the  street. 

"I'll  pay  for  the  damages,"  said  Badger,  choking  down 
his  wrath.  "He  went  to  draw  a  gun  on  me,  and  I  jumped 
on  him,  that's  all.  A  man  is  a  fool  to  let  another  get  the 
drop  on  him,  and  I  allow  I  don't  intend  to.  You  bet  I 
don't.  I'll  see  him  again,  and  when  I  do  I  reckon  we'll 
have  a  settlement." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AGNEW'S     TRICK. 

When  the  Westerner  saw  Agnew  again  they  were  in 
one  of  the  college  lecture-rooms  and  an  examination  was 
in  progress.  Of  course,  they  did  not  speak  to  each  other. 
Badger  believed  that  Agnew  had  kept  away  from  him 
since  their  warlike  encounter  of  the  night  before.  The 
fact  that  Agnew  was  also  a  sophomore  had  long  been  a 
disturbing  thought  to  the  Westerner.  Badger  had  class 
pride.  He  sometimes  declared  that  he  was  a  sophomore 
of  the  sophomores,  but  there  were  a  number  of  sopho- 
mores with  whom  he  could  not  and  would  not  mix. 

His  seat  was  now  close  to  the  one  occupied  by  Agnew, 
though  somewhat  in  front  of  it,  and  he  had  the  un- 
pleasant feeling  that  a  hole  was  being  bored  through  the 
back  of  his  head  by  Agnew's  eyes.  When  the  conductor 
of  the  examination  looked  down  that  way  Badger  could 
not  tell  whether  the  professor's  gaze  was  fixed  on  him  or 
on  Agnew.  Professor  Barton  had  fiercely  penetrating 
eyes,  anyway,  and  the  peculiar  manner  in  which  he  looked 
at  students  in  the  classroom  had  always  been  especially 
irritating  to  the  Kansan. 

Printed  questions  were  used,  and  Badger  found  some 
©f  them  pretty  hard. 

"I    wish    Barton    wouldn't    look    me    through    and 


132  Agnew's  Trick. 

through !"  he  muttered,  noticing  again  and  again  that  the 
professor's  eyes  were  fixed  on  him.  "It  makes  me  feel 
like  a  cat  under  the  paw  of  a  mouse,  or  a  calf  watched 
by  a  coyote.  I  allow  there  are  things  pleasanter  than 
Barton's  eyes." 

But  Barton  continued  to  look  down  that  way. 

"Is  he  watching  me,  or  is  he  watching  Agnew?" 
'Badger  grumbled,  as  he  dug  away  at  the  work  cut  out 
for  him.  "Hanged  if  I  can  tell.  Perhaps  it's  just  a  way 
he  has.  Maybe  every  poor  devil  in  the  room  is  feeling 
just  as  I  do.  Whoever  got  up  these  questions  must  have 
lain  awake  of  nights  trying  to  see  how  hard  he  could 
make  them.  I  reckon  the  chances  are  about  two  to  one 
that  I'll  flunk." 

In  an  interval  when  Barton's  attention  was  turned  in 
another  direction,  Morton  Agnew  crumpled  a  piece  of 
paper,  and,  with  a  deft  toss,  which  he  made  sure  was 
not  seen  by  any  one,  he  threw  it  beneath  Badger's  desk. 
Badger  did  not  know  it  was  there,  but  the  keen  eyes  of 
Barton  saw  it  as  soon  as  they  were  again  turned  in  that 
direction. 

Now,  Barton  was  really  not  watching  Buck  Badger, 
but  he  was  watching  Morton  Agnew.  Slips  of  the 
printed  questions  had  been  stolen  by  some  member  of  the 
sophomore  class  the  day  previous,  and  Agnew  was  sus- 
pected of  the  theft.  That  was  why  the  keen  eyes  of  the 
professor  were  so  constantly  turned  toward  that  part  of 
the  room.  He  hoped  to  discover  some  evidence  of  Ag- 


Agnew's  Trick.  133 

new's  guilt,  if,  indeed,  Agnew  was  guilty,  as  was  be- 
lieved. 

When  his  eyes  fell  on  the  piece  of  paper  which  Morton 
had  tossed  so  cleverly  beneath  Badger's  desk,  he  knew  in 
an  instant  that  it  had  not  been  there  a  moment  before. 
The  natural  conclusion  was,  therefore,  that  the  Kansan 
had  dropped  it. 

Its  discovery  was  very  suggestive.  He  began  to  watch 
Badger  as  well  as  Agnew.  In  a  little  while  Badger  saw; 
the  paper  also,  and  stooped  to  pick  it  up. 

"I  will  take  that  piece  of  p.^per!"  came  in  the  calm, 
even  voice  of  the  professor,  as  the  Westerner's  fingers: 
closed  on  the  crumpled  slip. 

Badger,  who  had  intended  to  open  it,  wondering  what 
it  contained,  and  vaguely  thinking  it  might  be  a  note 
which  some  member  of  the  class  had  tried  to  get  to  him, 
flushed  in  a  manner  to  arouse  the  professor's  suspicions. 
He  was  almost  tempted  to  tear  it  open  and  possess  him- 
self of  its  contents,  but  Barton  was  moving  toward  him, 
with  his  eyes  glued  on  the  paper. 

"I  will  take  that  piece  of  paper,"  the  professor  re- 
peated, and  Badger  reluctantly  gave  it  to  him. 

Agnew  looked  down  at  his  work  to  veil  the  look  of 
triumph  that  had  come  into  his  face.  Badger  anxiously 
watched  Barton  as  he  opened  the  slip  and  glanced  it 
over. 

"That  is  your  handwriting,  I  believe?"  in  an  ominous 
voice. 


134  Agnew's  Trick. 

He  held  it  for  Badger  to  read,  and,  to  the  Kansan's  in- 
tense astonishment,  he  saw  that  the  paper  was  scribbled 
over  with  answers  to  the  questions  used  in  the  examina- 
tion, and  that  the  handwriting  seemed  to  be  his  own.  He 
was  so  bewildered  he  could  not  say  a  word.  Answers 
were  there  to  only  a  part  of  the  questions,  however. 

There  was  a  strange  look  on  Barton's  bearded  face. 
He  had  seen  Badger  fishing  in  his  right  vest  pocket  for 
a  stub  of  a  pencil  awhile  before.  He  thought,  as  he  re- 
membered this,  that  it  was  the  left  pocket  of  the  vest. 

"What  is  in  that  left  pocket  of  your  vest?"  he  asked, 
in  a  voice  that  fairly  made  Badger  jump. 

Barton  believed  the  slip  he  held  in  his  fingers  had 
come  from  that  left  pocket,  and  he  thought  it  possible 
more  like  it  might  be  concealed  there. 

"Not  a  thing!"  said  the  Westerner,  the  angry  flush  in 
his  face  extending  to  the  roots  of  his  dark  hair,  for  he 
was  not  accustomed  to  being  spoken  to  in  that  suspicious 
tone,  and  it  enraged  him. 

"Will  you  see  if  there  is  not?"  Barton  asked,  striving 
to  maintain  his  calm,  though  his  suspicions  were  grow- 
ing. Badger  confidently  thrust  in  his  fingers  and — drew 
out  a  slip  of  paper  like  the  others,  which  was  also  scrib- 
bled over  with  answers  to  questions ! 

He  could  not  have  regarded  it  with  more  surprise  and 
bewilderment  if  it  had  been  a  snake.  Barton  took  it  from 
his  shaking  fingers,  and  saw  that  the  handwriting  seemed 
to  be  the  same. 


Agnew's  Trick.  135 

This  exciting  dialogue  was  beginning  to  attract  atten- 
tion, and  many  eyes  were  turned  in  that  direction,  which 
made  the  Kansan  get  even  redder  in  the  face.  Badger 
thrust  a  hand  into  one  of  the  upper  pockets  of  his  vest 
and  drew  out  another  paper  of  the  same  kind. 

"What  does  this  mean  ?"  he  growled. 

He  dived  frantically  into  other  pockets.  He  knew  that 
his  position  was  one  hard  to  explain  away,  but,  with  a 
sort  of  recklessness,  he  was  determined  to  know  if  there 
were  more  papers  of  that  kind  anywhere  about  him. 
He  could  not  imagine  how  they  came  there,  and  the  rather 
wild  idea  occurred  to  him  that  he  might  have  scribbled 
them  over  that  way  in  his  sleep,  for  the  coming  examina- 
tion had  disturbed  him  and  made  his  nights  a  bit  rest- 
less. 

There  were  no  other  incriminating  slips. 

"I  should  like  to  know  what  it  means  myself,"  said 
Barton. 

He  looked  sternly  at  Agnew,  but  the  latter  had  now 
obtained  control  of  his  countenance,  and  met  the  pro- 
fessor's suspicious  look  with  an  air  of  innocent  confidence. 
Agnew  felt  safe.  The  paper  he  had  crumpled  and 
thrown  under  Badger's  desk  was  the  only  one  he  had 
secreted  about  him.  So  he  knew  that  even  if  a  search 
was  forced,  nothing  of  an  incriminating  character  could 
be  discovered  on  him. 

"I  think  T  have  put  you  in  a  mighty  tight  box,  Mr. 
Buck  Badger !"  was  his  gloating  thought. 


136  Agnew's  Trick. 

And  again  that  look  of  triumph  returned  with  such 
force  that  he  could  hide  it  only  by  lowering  his  eyes,  and 
did  not  raise  them  throughout  the  rest  of  the  hour. 

That  evening,  while  Morton  Agnew  was  amusing  h;m- 
self  with  a  game  of  solitaire,  and  chuckling  with  glee 
over  the  clever  manner  in  which  he  had  put  Buck 
Badger  in  a  "box,"  a  rap  sounded  on  the  door  of  his 
room  that  made  him  jump. 

"Come  in !"  he  said. 

And  Frank  Merriwell  walked  in ! 

Agnew  half-rose  out  of  his  chair. 

"Sit  down !"  Merriwell  urged,  closing  the  door  behin3 
him. 

Then  he  turned  the  key  in  the  lock  and  dropped  the  key 
into  his  pocket. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  starting  to  his  feet  in 
an  agitated  way. 

"Sit  down !"  Frank  again  commanded,  in  a  smooth, 
quiet  tone,  which,  however,  sounded  very  ominous.  Ag- 
new looked  toward  the  closed  window,  and  then  dropped 
limply  into  the  chair. 

"It's  two  stories  down,  and  a  hard  pavement  below  that 
window.  I'd  advise  you,  Agnew,  not  to  pitch  yourself 
out  of  that  on  your  head.  It  would  probably  give  the 
undertaker  a  job." 

Agnew  pushed  the  cards  about,  without  knowing  what 
he  did,  and  stared  at  Merriwell,  his  face  white  and  his 


Agnew's  Trick.  137 

eyes  anxious.  He  was  afraid  of  Merriwell.  Of  all  the 
men  at  Yale,  Merriwell  was  the  one  he  most  feared.  And 
his  heart  told  him  that  there  was  something  serious  back 
of  this  unexpected  call. 

"I'm  glad  to  find  you  in,"  said  Frank,  "for  I  want  to 
have  a  talk  with  you.  I  will  take  this  chair,  with  your 
leave.  You  won't  mind  if  I  come  to  the  point  at  once  ?" 

"I  don't  know  what  you're  driving  at,  and  I  think  you 
must  be  drunk  or  luny  to  come  into  a  fellow's  room  and 
lock  him  in!  If  you  have  an  idea  that  there  is  any- 
thing funny  about  this,  I'm  pleased  to  tell  you  that  there 
isn't." 

"I  was  afraid  you  might  be  so  uncivil  as  to  desert  me. 
I  shall  not  try  to  take  anything  away  with  me  but  a  bit 
of  your  writing.  You're  a  good  penman,  Agnew,  and  I 
shall  want  a  sample,  after  we've  had  a  friendly  chat." 

The  cold  sweat  came  out  on  Agnew's  brow. 

"I  don't  intend  to  beat  about  the  bush  at  all.  It  is 
not  needed.  You  know  what  I  think  of  you,  for  I've 
given  you  abundant  opportunity.  Twice  within  my 
knowledge  you  have  tried  to  murder  me — once  when  you 
slipped  a  ball  cartridge  into  Badger's  musket  in  'A 
Mountain  Vendetta,'  hoping  and  believing  that  I  would 
be  killed,  and  again  on  the  grounds  of  the  gun  club,  when 
you  slipped  some  prepared  shells  into  my  box,  thinking 
I  would  get  hold  of  one  of  them,  and  that  I  would  be 
killed  by  the  explosion  of  my  gun !" 


138  Agnew's  Trick. 

Agnew's  face  grew  as  white  as  writing-paper.  He 
opened  his  lips  to  reply,  but  Frank  went  on : 

"Of  course,  you  are  ready  to  deny  these  things.  But 
I  have  some  proofs.  You  thought  you  could  get  all  the 
'fixed'  shells  when  you  knocked  Rattleton  over  in  the 
crowd,  pretending  you  were  shot.  But  one  of  them  you 
failed  to  get.  I  have  had  its  contents  analyzed  by  one 
of  the  professors  of  chemistry,  and  he  says  that  in  place 
of  powder,  the  shell  contained  a  sort  of  gun-cotton,  and 
that  he  does  not  see  why  the  gun  was  not  torn  into 
splinters." 

"This " 

"Just  keep  still,  Agnew,  until  I  am  through !  I  have 
found  the  dealer  of  whom  you  purchased  those  shells,  and 
I  have  found  the  dealer  of  whom  you  procured  that  gun- 
cotton  !" 

Again  Agnew  opened  his  mouth  to  protest.  He  had 
stopped  pushing  the  cards  about. 

"Once  you  tried  to  ruin  my  right  arm  by  injecting  into 
it  a  preparation  that  would  produce  atrophy  of  the  mus- 
cles. I  can  produce  evidence  of  that,  too !" 

"It's  a  lie!"  Agnew  finally  gasped.  "There  is  not  a 
word  of  truth  in  these  accusations !" 

"I  hare  been  accumulating  evidence  against  you  for 
some  time.  You  have  struck  at  me  and  at  my  friends 
time  and  again.  It  is  my  time  to  strike  now,  and  I  shall 
strike  hard." 

The  dangerous  smile  which  friends  and  enemies  alike 


Agnew's  Trick.  139 

had  come  to  know  so  well  rested  on  Merriwell's  face. 
Agnew  had  seen  it  there  before,  and  the  sight  of  it  made 
him  shiver. 

"Badger  used  that  shell — or  one  of  the  shells,  and 
only  chance  saved  him  from  being  killed  or  maimed  for 
life.  Not  satisfied  with  that,  you  struck  at  him  to-day 
again." 

"You're  crazy,  Merriwell !  There  is  not  a  word  of 
truth  in  any  of  these  things.  You  have  fancied  them 
all,  and,  because  you  do  not  like  me,  you  are  determined 
to  ruin  me." 

"You  have  ruined  yourself,  Agnew.  I  have  given  you. 
chance  after  chance  to  reform  and  change  about.  You 
get  worse.  You  are  a  disgrace  to  humanity,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  Yale  College.  You  struck  at  Badger  to-day,  as 
I  said. 

"I  know  all  about  it.  Professor  Barton  fancies  that 
he  caught  Badger  cribbing  in  to-day's  examination.  The 
matter  has  already  gone  to  the  faculty.  Badger  will  go 
out  of  Yale  as  sure  as  the  sun  rises  if  things  are  per- 
mitted to  go  on.  I  propose  to  see  that  they  do  not  go 
on.  No  scoundrel  like  you,  Agnew,  shall  treat  a  friend  of 
mine  in  that  way." 

"So  he  has  become  your  friend,  has  he  ?" 

"No  man  shall  treat  one  of  my  foes  in  that  way,  if  I 
can  help  it!" 

Agnew  attempted  a  skeptical  sneer,  but  it  was  a  failure. 
He  jvas  shaking  like  a  chilled  and  nervous  dog. 


140  Agnew's  Trick. 

"I  have  had  a  talk  with  Badger.  He  couldn't  under- 
stand how  the  papers  got  into  his  pockets.  But  I  knew 
as  soon  as  he  told  me  of  your  encounter  in  that  saloon 
last  night,  for  I  had  seen  the  slips  purporting  to  be  in 
his  handwriting,  and  I  knew  they  were  forged,  and  I  was 
sure  you  were  the  forger !"  , 

"Quite  a  Sherlock  Holmes!"  said  Agnew.  "This  is  a 
very  interesting  little  romance.  The  only  trouble  is  that, 
like  most  romances,  there  isn't  a  word  of  truth  in  it." 

"You  are  the  man  who  stole  the  printed  question  slips. 
You  wanted  them  for  your  own  use,  so  that  you  might 
not  fail  in  this  examination.  When  you  knew  what  they 
were,  and  had  prepared  answers,  you  planned  to  use  them 
to  throw  Badger  down,  hoping  that  if  the  theft  of  the 
slips  were  discovered  the  blow  would  fall  on  Badger." 

"You're  away  off,  Merriwell !" 

But  Frank  went  remorselessly  on : 

"Last  night,  in  the  saloon,  during  that  fight,  which  was 
of  your  own  seeking,  you  contrived  to  put  those  forged 
answers,  in  imitation  of  Badger's  handwriting,  into  his 
pockets,  where  Professor  Barton  found  them  to-day.  You 
are  a  forger,  Agnew,  and  you  have  lately  been  passing 
counterfeit  money !" 

"Not  a  word  of  truth  in  any  of  this !"  Agnew  shakily 
declared. 

"Some  of  these  things  I  might  find  difficulty  in  proving, 

though  I  am  as  sure  of  them  as  that  you  are  sitting  there. 

i  But  of  other  things  I  have  the  proof.     Now,  I  am  going 


Agnew's  Trick.  141 

to  give  you  your  choice :  Write  at  my  dictation  a  con- 
fession that  will  clear  Badger  of  the  charge  of  stealing 
the  question  slips  and  using  those  answers,  or  I  shall 
take  steps  at  once  which  will  land  you  in  the  peniten- 
tiary!" 

Agnew  grew  sick  and  blind. 

"I  can't  do  what  you  say!"  he  begged.  "My  God, 
Merriwell,  even  if  the  things  were  true — which  I  deny — 
I  couldn't  do  it !  It  would  disgrace  me  forever !" 

"The  faculty  and  professors  are  not  anxious  to  bring" 
odium  on  the  good  name  of  Yale.  Your  confession,  I  am 
sure,  will  not  be  made  public.  You  ought  to  have 
thought  of  the  disgrace  when  you  were  doing  those 
dastardly,  cowardly  things!  It  is  too  late  now." 

"But  I  can't !"  Agnew  wailed.  He  had  ceased  to  deny 
his  guilt. 

"All  right !"  said  Frank,  his  lips  tightening  firmly.  "I 
shall  clear  Badger  without  this.  I  wanted  to  give  you 
a  last  chance.  I,  too,  am  anxious  that  the  good  name  of 
Yale  shall  not  be  smirched  by  publishing  to  the  world  the 
downfall  and  disgrace  of  a  Yale  student.  But  I  shall  not 
withhold  my  hand  longer." 

He  pushed  back  his  chair,  and  the  look  on  his  face 
was  so  terrible  that  it  robbed  the  trembling  wretch  of 
his  fictitioiis  courage. 

"Wait !"  begged  Agnew.  "If  I  do  what  you  say,  you'll 
give  me  time  to  get  out  of  town  ?" 

"I  shall  not  move  against  you  at  all.     I  shall  simply 


142  Agnew's  Trick. 

turn  the  confession  over  to  the  faculty,  and  so  clear 
Badger." 

Again  Agnew  hesitated. 

"Here  are  paper  and  ink  on  your  table !" 

The  sweat  was  standing  in  drops  on  the  brow  of  the 
card-sharp. 

"I'll  do  it  simply  because  I  must!"  he  doggedly  de- 
clared. "It  is  an  outrage.  I  do  not  admit  any  of  these 
other  charges,  but  I  did  put  those  things  in  Badger's 
pockets,  and  I  took  the  questions  to  help  me  out  in  the 
examination.  Those  are  the  only  things  I  am  willing  to 
confess." 

"They  are  all  I  ask  you  to  confess." 

With  trembling  fingers,  Agnew  drew  pen  and  paper 
toward  him.  And  then,  at  Merriwell's  dictation,  he  wrote 
a  complete  confession  of  the  wrong  he  had  done  Badger. 

"That  is  all  right!"  Merry  admitted,  when  he  had 
looked  it  over. 

He  arose  from  the  chair,  folded  the  paper,  and  put 
it  in  a  pocket. 

"Get  out  of  New  Haven  as  quick  as  you  can.  I  shall 
give  this  to  the  faculty  in  the  morning.  Good-by !" 

He  unlocked  the  door,  with  his  face  turned  toward 
Agnew,  let  himself  into  the  hall,  and  was  gone. 

Forbearance  and  mercy  had  ceased  to  be  a  virtue,  and 
'Frank  Merriwell's  hand  was  lifted  to  strike  and  crush 
*  dastardly  foe. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

COWARDICE   OF  THE   CHICKERING   SET. 

Merriwell  encountered  Hodge  in  the  campus,  informed 
him  of  what  he  had  done,  and  together  they  started 
down-town.  By  and  by  they  took  a  street-car,  and,  get- 
ting out  at  a  familiar  corner,  found  themselves  in  front 
of  a  group  of  Merriwell's  friends. 

"Excuse  me  if  I  walk  on!"  said  Bart. 

"No,  you  are  going  with  me !" 

"My  room  is  preferred  to  my  company  with  those  fel- 
lows!" 

They  had  not  yet  been  seen  by  Merry's  friends,  who 
were  grouped  on  the  sidewalk  about  Jack  Ready,  who  was 
talking  and  gesticulating  in  his  inimitable  way. 

"Now  don't  get  sulky,  Bart!"  Frank  commanded. 
"Those  fellows  are  my  friends." 

"They  don't  like  me.  I've  seen  it,  Merry.  When  I 
think  of  some  things  they  have  said,  it  makes  me  hot 
even  against  you." 

"Do  you  want  to  turn  me  against  you,  Bart?  That  is 
a  good  way  to  do  it." 

"I  don't  care !  I  shall  never  snivel  round  those  fel- 
lows!" Bart  snarled.  "I'm  your  friend,  Merry!  That's 
enough,  isn't  it?" 

"You  take  a  poor  way  to  show  your  friendship,  Hodge  1 


144     Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set. 

You  vex  me  sometimes.  Now,  look  here!  The  'flock' 
can  be  together  but  a  little  while  longer.  The  last  of 
June  is  approaching  fast,  and  that  brings  commencement., 
Diamond,  Rattleton,  Browning,  Gamp,  Dismal,  Danny, 
Bink,  and  a  lot  more  will  leave  Yale  forever  in  June." 

The  reflection  touched  Bart's  fiery  heart. 

"All  right,"  he  said.  "Go  ahead!"  and  walked  after 
Merriwell. 

Willis  Paulding,  the  Anglomaniac,  passed  them,  going 
in  the  direction  of  the  large  hotel  across  the  way. 

"Mud  on  the  bloon — I  mean  blood  on  the  moon !"  ex- 
claimed Rattleton,  as  Bart  and  Merry  came  up. 

"What's  up  ?"  Frank  asked. 

"Paulding  and  the  Chickering  set  are  up — there!"  said 
Danny,  pointing  to  some  upper  windows  of  the  hotel. 
"Thev  are  having  a  big  feed  to-night." 

"Drinking  tea  and  smoking  cigarettes,"  explained 
Bruce. 

"I've  invited  every  fellow  here  to  attend  that  banquet 
with  me,"  Ready  jovially  declared.  "But  not  a  soul  will 
accept  the  invitation.  They  fancy  their  heads  aren't  hard 
enough  for  that  kind  of  drinking!" 

"Bub-bub-better  get  an  invitation  yourself  fuf -first!" 
Gamp  stuttered. 

"Oh,  I  circulate  everywhere,  like  first-class  currency. 
Want  to  go  up  and  take  a  peep  with  me,  Merriwell  ?  I'd 
give  a  V  any  time  to  hear  one  of  those  fellows  respond 


Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set.     145 

to  a  toast!  Come  along.  What  d'ye  say?  I'll  be  the 
pilot." 

But  Merriwell  was  no  more  in  the  mood  for  such  an 
escapade  than  the  other  members  of  the  "flock."  There- 
upon, Ready  skipped  across  the  street  himself  and  dis- 
appeared within  the  hotel. 

Merriwell  and  his  friends  walked  down  the  street,  and 
in  the  course  of  half  an  hour  returned  to  that  corner. 
Then  they  saw  Ready  at  one  of  the  upper  windows,  look- 
ing down  at  them.  He  had  a  big  piece  of  cake  in  one 
hand  and  a  glass  of  wine  or  tea  in  the  other. 

"Come  up  to  the  feast !"  he  bellowed.    "Great  fun !" 

But  Merriwell  had  his  eyes  fixed  elsewhere.  Suddenly 
he  exclaimed : 

"That  hotel  is  on  fire !"  He  had  observed  a  tongue  of 
flame  leaping  from  a  window. 

He  started  across  the  street,  but  before  he  had  taken 
a  dozen  steps  the  fire-alarm  bell  sounded.  A  few  of  the 
people  in  the  hotel  seemed  to  be  awaking  t6  the  fact  that 
the  building  was  on  fire.  Merry's  friends  joined  him, 
and  they  stood  near  the  center  of  the  street,  looking  up 
at  the  fire  and  discussing  the  matter.  Then  Ready  was 
seen  again  at  the  window,  staring  about  in  a  bewildered 
way,  as  if  he  contemplated  leaping  to  the  street  below. 

"Do  you  suppose  the  fire  could  cut  him  off  so  soon?" 
Merry  anxiously  queried. 

"It  doesn't  seem  likely,"  Diamond  answered.     "But, 


146     Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set. 

of  course,  no  one  can  tell.  The  Chickering  set  are  up 
there  yet !" 

A  crowd  was  collecting,  and  Merry's  friends  were 
thinking  of  going  on  across  the  street,  when  the  arrival 
of  a  clanging  fire-engine  drove  them  back  to  the  corner 
from  which  they  had  started. 

It  could  now  be  seen  that  even  in  that  brief  space  of 
time  the  fire  was  rapidly  spreading.  The  blaze  first  seen 
had  increased  in  size,  and  flames  were  now  issuing  from 
other  windows  on  that  floor.  The  fire  seemed  to  be  in 
the  third  story.  Luckily,  the  hotel  stood  on  a  corner, 
away  friim  other  buildings. 

People  were  now  pouring  in  a  stream  from  the  exits. 
Merriwell  looked  again  toward  the  window  where  Ready 
had  been  seen. 

"Ready  will  come  right  across  here  as  soon  as  he  gets 
down,"  he  said.  "I  suppose  he  is  all  right,  but  the  fire 
is  on  that  floor !" 

But  Ready  did  not  appear.  Other  fire-engines  arrived 
and  began  their  work.  Firemen  swarmed  everywhere. 
But  the  fire  increased  in  intensity  in  spite  of  this  fight 
against  it.  The  hotel  appeared  to  have  emptied  itself  of 
its  occupants. 

And  still  Jack  Ready  did  not  come.  Willis  Paulding 
stumbled  across  the  street,  white  and  shaky.  His  hair 
and  eyebrows  were  singed,  his  Lunnon-made  clothes  were 
wet  and  limp,  and  he  was  terribly  frightened. 

"Merriwell,"  he  gasped,  "Jack  Ready  is  up  there  1" 


Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set.      147 

Merry  started.  A  fear  that  such  might  be  the  case 
had  been  growing  on  him. 

"How  do  you  know  ?"  he  asked. 

Paulding  forgot  his  English  drawl  in  his  fright  and 
excitement. 

"I  saw  him!"  he  admitted.  "He  was  trying  to  get 
Lew  Veazie  down  the  stairs  when  he  fell.  Veazie  had 
been  drinking  a  little,  and  couldn't  help  himself." 

"And  where  is  Veazie?" 

"He  is  down  on  the  street  somewhere." 

"And  you  ran  away  and  left  Ready,  after  he  had  in- 
jured himself  while  trying  to  aid  you !" 

Paulding  dropped  his  head. 

"The  fire  was  right  on  us,  and  we " 

"Where  did  he  fall?" 

"On  the  center  stairway  leading  from  the  third  story," 
said  Paulding,  shivering  under  Merry's  rebuke. 

"Fellows,  I  am  going  up  there  after  Jack  Ready,"  said 
Frank  calmly. 

"You'll  go  at  the  risk  of  your  life !"  shouted  Browning. 

But  Frank  was  already  half-way  across  the  street.  The 
fire  had  spread  with  astonishing  rapidity.  Some  com- 
bustible material  in  the  second  story  had  exploded  with 
great  force,  and  this  had  seemed  to  scatter  the  fire.  The 
entire  second  story  was  on  fire  now,  as  well  as  the  one 
above  it. 

Frank  vanished  in  the  crowd,  which  was  retreating 
through  fear  that  the  walls  were  about  to  fall.  Other 


148     Cowardice  of  the  dickering  Set. 

fire-engines  had  come  up.  The  people  who  fell  back 
from  the  dangerous  vicinity  crowded  on  the  Yale  men 
who  had  looked  so  anxiously  after  Merriwell  as  he  ha- 
stened to  the  aid  of  the  imperiled  freshman.  Willis 
Paulding,  feeling  Merriwell's  rebuke,  and  stung  by  a 
feeling  of  his  own  cowardice,  had  slipped  away. 

"I  don't  like  that,"  Hodge  grumbled,  looking  at  the 
spot  where  Frank  had  vanished. 

"I've  seen  things  myself  that  I  like  better!"  grunted 
Browning. 

"You  can  bet  your  life  that  Merry  will  go  wherever  a 
friend  is  in  danger!"  said  Rattleton. 

"Or  a  foe,  either!"  added  Diamond. 

"Fuf-fellows,  I'm  worried  abub  bub-bout  this !"  stut- 
tered Joe  Gamp. 

"I'd  feel  easier  a  good  deal  if  we  had  all  stayed  home 
to-night !"  droned  Dismal. 

For  once,  neither  Danny  nor  Bink  had  any  comment  to 
offer,  funny  or  otherwise.  A  feeling  that  something1 
a  \vful  was  about  to  happen  stilled  their  chatter. 

Then  all  started,  leaping  as  if  they  had  been  shot  at, 
and  pushed  back  into  the  retreating  and  startled  crowd. 
A  furnace  or  something  of  the  kind  had  given  way  in 
the  basement  with  a  thunderous  report.  A  great  gap 
showed  in  one  of  the  walls,  and  the  wall  itself  seemed 
on  the  point  of  toppling  down. 

"Sounded  like  a  siege-gun!"  chirped  a  well-known 
voice.  "Fellows,  I'm  glad  I  wasn't  in  there  then!  Had 


Cowardice  ol  the  dickering  Set      149 

the  greatest  time  you  ever  saw — narrow  escape  and  all 
that;  but  here  I  am  again,  with  my  stomach  filled  with 
cake  and  my  head  intoxicated  with  tea.  All  right  side 
tip,  you  see !" 

The  speaker  was  Jack  Ready! 

"Where  is  Merriwell  ?"  Bart  asked. 

"Merriwell?"  and  Ready  looked  round.  "Refuse  me, 
but  I  supposed  he  was  the  center  of  this  intellectual 
group!  Yes,  where  is  Merriwell?" 

"He  went  up  there  after  you — to  get  you  out  of  the 
fire!"  exclaimed  Bink,  in  great  excitement. 

"You  haven't  sus-sus-seen  him?"  demanded  Gamp. 

Some  firemen  planted  a  ladder  against  the  swaying 
wall,  as  if  to  brace  it,  and  a  group  came  round  the  cor- 
ner dragging  a  huge  muddy  hose,  which  they  intended 
to  train  on  another  part  of  the  hotel.  But,  so  far,  the 
fire  had  baffled  all  their  efforts. 

"Did  he  go  up  there?"  Ready  gasped. 

"Sure!"  said  Danny.     "He  is  up  there  now." 

Ready's  round,  red-apple  cheeks  grew  white. 

"If  he  is  up  there  now,  he'll  never  come  out !" 

Bart  stared  at  the  shaking  wall  and  the  flaming  win- 
dows— at  the  smoke  clouds  rolling  from  the  doorways. 
The  hotel  had  become  a  furnace.  Then  he  stepped  out, 
with  a  determined  look  on  his  dark  face.  Ready  under- 
stood the  meaning  of  that  look. 

"You'll  go  to  your  death  if  you  try  it!"  he  declared. 
"It  is  hotter  than  ten  ovens,  and  some  timbers  fell  from 


150     Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set. 

the  second  floor  as  I  came  out.  If  I  hadn't  rolled  under 
the  stairway  when  I  fell,  and  thus  had  protection,  I 
should  have  been  cooked  alive." 

But  if  Hodge  heard  the  warning,  he  did  not  heed  it. 
He  pushed  aside  Ready's  detaining  hand  and  ran  quickly 
across  the  street.  They  saw  him  reach  the  first  smoke- 
filled  doorway,  and  then  he  was  swallowed  up  in  the 
smoke.  The  other  members  of  Merriwell's  flock  stood 
still,  with  shaking  limbs  and  anxiously  beating  hearts. 

"They  will  both  be  killed !"  gasped  Rattleton. 

"Sure!"  groaned  Dismal. 

"I  don't  believe  we  shall  ever  see  Hodge  again !"  Ready 
declared,  and  his  cheeks  grew  even  whiter. 

Bruce  moved  as  if  he,  too,  thought  of  rushing  into  the 
flames.  Diamond's  hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder. 

"Wait  a  minute!  No  use  risking  any  more  lives! 
Bart  can  do  that,  if  any  one  can !" 

Browning  felt  that  this  was  true,  and  fell  back  with  a 
groan,  while  a  bit  of  suspicious  moisture  shone  in  his 
eyes.  The  walls  were  in  such  a  state  that  the  firemen 
now  began  to  disconnect  the  hose  and  to  get  the  engines 
away.  They  warned  back  the  crowd,  and  policemen  be- 
gan to  shout  orders  and  to  enforce  them  with  batons. 

In  the  meantime,  what  was  Bart  Hodge  doing,  and 
what  had  befallen  Frank  Merriwell?  Hodge  was  sure 
that  Frank  had  made  his  way  to  the  stairway  where 
Willis  Paulding  had  said  Jack  Ready  had  fallen.  It  was 
the  center  stairway  leading  from  the  third  story. 


Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set.      151 

Hodge  had  not  much  difficulty  in  passing  through  the 
hotel  office,  for,  after  the  dash  through  the  doorway,  he 
found  the  smoke  not  so  dense.  It  seemed  to  be  sucked 
into  the  doorway,  and  the  clerk's  desk  and  vicinity  were 
comparatively  free  of  it.  The  room  was  deserted,  and 
there  were  everywhere  evidences  of  a  hasty  leave-taking. 

Bart  ran  first  to  the  elevator,  thinking  he  might  be 
able  to  use  that,  but  the  door  appeared  to  be  warped,  and 
he  could  not  get  it  open  easily.  He  did  not  know 
whether  the  elevator  was  in  running  condition,  and  much 
doubted  it,  because  of  the  explosion  in  the  basement. 
Therefore,  not  wishing  to  lose  any  time,  he  jumped  for 
the  nearest  stairway,  as  soon  as  he  felt  that  no  help  could 
be  had  from  the  elevator,  and  climbed  as  fast  as  he  could 
toward  the  second  story. 

This  stairway  was  filled  with  smoke,  and  he  felt  the 
heat  increase  as  he  ascended,  but  he  still  had  no  trouble, 
except  from  the  smoke.  But  when  he  reached  the  second 
floor  his  heart  almost  failed.  The  stairway  on  which 
Jack  Ready  had  fallen,  and  the  only  stairway  Bart  could 
see,  was  wrapped  in  flames,  which  writhed  and  twined 
like  serpents.  The  heat,  too,  was  intense. 

Bending  close  to  the  floor,  to  escape  the  smoke  and 
heat  as  much  as  possible,  Bart  groped  about,  looking 
everywhere  for  Merriwell,  thinking  he  might  have  fallen 
there.  He  saw  him  nowhere,  and  called  loudly.  But 
no  sound  came  back  except  the  roar  of  the  fire.  It  even 
drowned  all  the  noises  of  the  street  But  not  for  a  mo- 


152     Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set. 

ment  did  he  think  of  turning  back,  though  he  knew  how 
awful  the  danger  would  be  if  he  tried  to  go  up  that 
burning  stairway.  He  cast  about  for  some  sort  of  pro- 
tection. A  flimsy  curtain  of  cotton  material  was  stretched 
across  a  doorway.  This  Hodge  pulled  down  and  wrapped 
round  his  head,  protecting  his  hands  with  it  also  as 
well  as  he  could.  Then  he  measured  the  stairway  and  its 
direction  with  a  quick  glance,  and  made  a  wild  dash  for 
the  fire. 

He  went  up  the  stairway  at  a  run,  with  his  clothes 
scorching  and  the  protecting  cotton  cloth  bursting  into 
flame.  It  was  a  desperate  spurt,  but  Hodge  went  through 
the  fire,  and  with  a  bound  threw  himself  beyond  it,  and 
felt,  rather  than  knew,  that  he  was  in  some  kind  of  hall, 
where  the  fire  was  not  so  bad.  He  pulled  aside  the  flam- 
ing cloth,  pitched  it  from  him,  put  up  his  scorching  hands 
to  shield  his  eyes,  and  looked  about. 

"Merriwell!" 

The  cry  was  one  of  joy. 

"Merriwell !" 

This  time  the  exclamation  held  the  tone  of  fear  and 
dread.  Frank  Merriwell  was  lying  in  this  space,  which 
Bart  saw  now  to  be  a  wide  corridor.  Frank  seemed  un- 
conscious. He  was  lying  close  against  the  wall,  with 
his  arms  doubled  over  his  head'.  Near  him  was  a  piece 
of  timber  which  had  fallen  from  the  floor  above.  Other 
pieces  of  timbers  seemed  about  to  fall  from  the  same 


Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set. 

place.  This  one,  as  Bart  saw  at  a  glance,  had  struck 
Merriwell  down. 

Bart's  heart  almost  stopped  beating  when  the  thought 
came  to  him  that  perhaps  Frank  was  dead.  He  leaped 
toward  him,  with  a  bound,  uttering  that  cry  of  "Merri- 
well !"  as  he  did  so. 

"Frank !  Frank !"  he  cried.  "Frank,  are  you  much 
hurt?" 

The  roaring  of  the  fire  in  the  stairway  sounded  louder 
than  ever.  Its  noise  was  like  that  of  a  raging  furnace. 
Bart's  hands  were  scorched,  but  he  did  not  feel  the  pain 
of  the  burns.  Another  piece  of  timber  dropped  from  the 
floor  above  within  a  foot  of  where  he  stood.  Others 
seemed  about  to  fall.  There  was  fire  all  round  him,  and 
the  whole  corridor  seemed  on  the  point  of  leaping  into 
flame. 

Hodge  lifted  Merry's  unconscious  form  and  faced  the 
fire.  A  groan  came  from  Merriwell's  lips.  Bart  looked 
into  the  white  face  and  saw  a  bloody  lump  on  the  side 
of  Merry's  head.  That  face  appealed  to  him  as  if  for 
protection  from  the  fire. 

In  spite  of  his  many  faults,  Bart  Hodge  held  for  Frank 
Merriwell  the  love  of  a  strong  and  manly  heart.  Frank 
was  the  one  true  and  faithful  friend  who  had  always 
stood  by  him — the  one  friend  who  always  understood  him 
— the  one  friend  who  was  every  ready  to  defend  him. 
And  Hodge  would  have  laid  down  his  life  for  Merriwell  I 

He  saw.  that  if  he  dashed  through  the  fire  with  Merri- 


154     Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set 

well,  that  face,  so  strong  and  manly  and  true,  would  be 
horribly  disfigured.  He  did  not  think  of  his  own  so 
much  as  of  Merriwell's.  Yet  he  felt  that  if  he  got  out 
of  the  building  with  his  burden  he  would  have  to  make 
haste.  There  were  doors  along  the  corridor,  and  he 
knew  that  they  opened  into  rooms.  He  put  Merriwell 
down,  and  finding  the  first  door  locked,  kicked  it  in  with 
his  foot. 

The  room  was  full  of  smoke,  but  the  fire  had  not  yet 
entered  it.  Hodge  hastily  tore  from  the  bed  a  big  double 
blanket,  and  retreated  with  it  into  the  corridor.  This 
blanket  he  wound  round  Merriwell's  face  and  shoulders 
and  hands ;  then  lifted  Frank  again,  protecting  himself 
with  the  folds  of  the  blanket  as  well  as  he  could  as  he 
did  so.  Thus  dragging  Merriwell,  he  stumbled  toward 
the  hell  of  fire  that  roared  in  the  stairway. 

There  was  a  jarring  sound,  and  for  a  moment  it 
seemed  that  the  whole  building  was  tumbling  down  round 
his  ears.  A  section  of  the  rear  wall  had  fallen  outward, 
and  the  part  of  the  hotel  containing  the  kitchen  was  a 
burning  wreck.  Bart  hardly  heard  the  sound,  so  absorbed 
was  he  in  the  task  before  him.  He  did  not  feel  Merri- 
well's weight — in  fact,  his  strength  seemed  to  be  as  great 
as  Browning's. 

"Frank!"  he  cried,  in  his  heart — "Frank,  my  dearest 
friend,  if  I  can't  carry  you  out,  we'll  die  together !" 

The  fire  in  the  stairway  had  greatly  increased.  But 
Hodge  did  not  hesitate.  Wrapping  the  blanket  closer 


Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set     155 

about  Merriwell  and  himself,  he  rushed,  with  seeming 
recklessness,  but  with  a  boldness  that  was  really  the 
highest  form  of  courage,  into  that  raging  cauldron  of 
fire,  and  descended  with  the  steady  celerity  of  one  who 
sees  every  foot  of  the  way  and  has  no  thrill  of  fear. 

The  blanket  crisped  and  cracked  and  smoked  into  flame 
as  the  fiery  waves  beat  against  it.  Bart  seemed  to  be 
breathing  liquid  flame.  But  the  thick  bulk  of  the  blanket 
shielding  Merri well's  face  and  hands  kept  them  from 
the  searing  fire. 

Half-fainting,  but  victorious,  Bart  Hodge  reeled  out 
of  the  hotel,  bearing  Merriwell  in  his  arms.  A  great 
cheer  went  up  from  the  excited  crowd,  for,  somehow,  the 
information  had  spread  that  a  daring  attempt  to  rescue 
a  friend  was  being  made  by  one  of  the  college  students. 

Merriwell's  flock  dived  through  the  thick  smoke  and 
carried  both  Hodge  and  Merriwell  to  a  place  of  security. 
And  even  as  they  did  so  the  tottering  side  wall,  that  had 
so  long  been  swaying,  fell,  and  the  shell  of  the  burning 
hotel  collapsed  like  a  house  of  cards. 

******* 

The  next  morning  Danny  Griswold  bounced  into  Mer- 
riwell's room.  Hodge  was  there.  He  and  Frank  were 
talking  about  the  fire  and  congratulating  themselves  that 
neither  had  received  bad  burns  and  that  Merry's  injury 
was  not  serious. 

"News!"  exclaimed  Danny.  "Morton  Agnew  left 
New  Haven  last  night" 


156     Cowardice  of  the  Chickering  Set. 

"I  knew  he  would,"  said  Frank.  "He  knows  I  am 
going  to  give  his  confession  to  the  faculty  this  morning, 
and  he  would  not  want  to  stay  here  a  minute  after  that. 
Yale  will  never  see  him  again." 

"Good  thing  for  Yale!"  Hodge  grunted. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A     WILB     NIGHT. 

A  wild  lot  of  sophomores  and  freshmen  were  cele- 
brating the  beginning  of  "secret-society  week,"  by  march- 
ing round  the  campus  at  night  in  lock-step  style,  singing 
rousing  college  songs.  They  danced  in  and  out  of  the 
dormitories,  wildly  cheered  every  building  they  passed, 
while  the  classes  bellowed  forth  their  "Omega  Lambda 
Chi." 

Down  by  the  fence  by  Durfee's,  on  the  campus,  in  the 
gymnasium,  at  Traeger's  and  Morey's  and  Jackson's,  and 
wherever  Yale  men  congregated,  almost  the  sole  topic  of 
conversation  was  of  who  would  go  to  "Bones,"  "Keys," 
and  "Wolf's  Head." 

The  air  of  mystery  surrounding  membership  in  these 
senior  societies,  the  honor  which  their  membership  con- 
fers, and  the  fact  that  but  a  few  men,  comparatively,  out 
of  any  junior  class  can  be  elected  to  them,  create  an  ab- 
sorbing interest. 

Skull  and  Bones,  or  "Bones,"  as  it  is  popularly  called, 
is  the  wealthiest  and  most  respected.  Then  follows 
Scrolls  and  Keys,  or  "Keys,"  with  Wolf's  Head  third 
in  order  of  distinction.  The  names  are  taken  from  the 
society  pins.  Each  of  these  societies  has  a  handsome  and 


158  A  Wild  Night. 

costly  club-house,  whose  secrets  are  no  more  to  be  ar- 
rived at  than  are  those  of  the  sphinx  and  the  pyramids. 

Conjectures  as  to  what  society  would  get  the  most 
prominent  members  of  the  junior  class  had  engrossed  a 
good  deal  of  thought  for  several  weeks.  Each  society 
takes  in  fifteen  members,  or  forty-five  in  all,  out  of  the 
two  hundred  and  fifty  or  more  men  that  usually  com- 
pose the  junior  class.  As  every  junior  is  anxious  to  be- 
come a  member,  the  feverish  interest  with  which  the 
subject  is  regarded  by  the  juniors  may  be  imagined.  This 
interest  had  gradually  spread  throughout  the  college. 
Now  the  subject  suddenly  leaped  to  such  importance  that 
it  overshadowed  the  ball-game  which  Yale  was  to  play 
against  Princeton,  and  the  coming  boat-race  at  New  Lon- 
don, in  which  the  phenomenally  popular  Inza  Burrage 
was  to  be  the  mascot  of  the  Yale  crew. 

Class  spirit,  that  wildly  jovial  night,  seemed  to  melt  the 
sophomores  into  a  fraternizing,  loving  brotherhood, 
where  discord  was  unknown,  even  though  the  class  con- 
tained such  opposite  elements  as  Buck  Badger,  Jim 
Hooker,  Donald  Pike,  Pink  Pooler,  the  Chickering  set, 
Porter,  Cowles,  Mullen,  Benson,  Billings,  Webb,  and 
others.  Though  these  might  join  in  class  dances  and 
marches,  and  howl  themselves  hoarse  in  honor  of  the 
sophomores  and  of  Yale,  some  of  them  could  no  more 
unite  in  any  true  sense  than  oil  and  water. 

The  campus  was  brilliantly  illuminated.  Powerful  cal- 
cium and  electric  lights  bored  holes  through  the  dark- 


A  Wild  Night.  159 

ness,  turning  night  into  day.  All  the  windows  of  all  the 
dormitories  which  face  the  campus  were  crowded  with 
students  and  with  women. 

Three  of  these  windows  held  Frank  Merriwell's 
friends.  Frank  was  there,  with  Inza,  Elsie,  and  Winnie, 
together  with  Mrs.  Hodge  and  Inza's  invalid  father,  Ber- 
nard Burrage. 

"As  in  life,  the  good  and  the  evil  mingle,"  sighed  Dis- 
mal Jones,  as  his  eyes  fell  on  Jim  Hooker  and  other  hon- 
orable sophomores  who  were  marching  in  close  proximity 
to  the  Chickering  set.  "The  wheat  grows  up  with  the 
tares,  and  the  result  is  an  everlasting  bobbery." 

"There  will  be  tears  in  your  wardrobe  if  you  don't  quit 
walking  on  me !"  squeaked  Bink  Stubbs. 

"Climb  up  on  a  chair,"  advised  Danny,  who  had  al- 
ready taken  his  own  advice,  and  was  thus  able  to  look 
down  into  the  campus  without  stretching  his  neck  until 
he  was  in  danger  of  converting  himself  into  a  dromedary. 
"It's  just  great !" 

"Can't  be  anything  great  for  me  that  holds  that  Chick- 
ering crowd !"  Browning  grumbled. 

"Isn't  the  campus  beautiful!"  was  Inza's  enthusiastic 
exclamation. 

It  was,  indeed,  beautiful,  for  the  fresh,  tender  green 
of  the  elms  was  brought  out  with  marvelous  distinctness 
by  the  brilliant  lights. 

"They're  kuk-kuk-kicking  up  an  awful  dud-dud-dud- 


160  A  Wild  Might. 

dust!"  stuttered  Gamp,  pushing  forward  for  a  better 
view. 

"Dust  assume  to  crowd  in  front  of  me,  base  varlet?" 
questioned  Bruce.  "I'll  forgive  you  if  you'll  just  take 
off  your  tall  head  and  hold  it  under  your  arm !" 

"I  s'pose  naow  you  think  that's  a  joke !"  said  Gamp. 

"It's  more  than  a  dust,  fellows,"  said  Merriwell. 
"There  is  a  fight  on !" 

Certain  of  the  sophomores  had  bunched  together  under 
one  of  the  elms,  and  seemed  to  be  struggling,  as  if  in  a 
contest. 

"It  looks  as  though  they  might  be  playing  football/' 
suggested  Elsie. 

Winnie  Lee  leaned  anxiously  out  of  the  window,  for  in 
the  center  of  that  knot  she  had  seen  Buck  Badger.  She 
had  eagerly  searched  for  him  in  the  procession,  and  had 
but  found  him  when  that  indication  of  a  wrangle  came  to 
disturb  her. 

The  procession  seemed  to  be  breaking  up  and  concen- 
trating beneath  and  around  the  elm  where  that  struggle 
was  taking  place.  Far  in  front  a  number  of  students 
were  bellowing  their  "Omega  Lambda  Chi,"  but  the 
others  had  ceased  to  sing. 

"See  how  great  a  matter  a  little  fire  kindleth!"  said 
Dismal. 

And  Dismal  was  right.  The  beginning  of  that  scram- 
ble was  trivial  enough.  But  the  trouble  which  it  kindled 
was  destined  to  outlive  the  moment  and  seriously  affect 


A  Wild  Night.  161 

the  life  and  fortunes  of  at  least  one  of  the  participants. 
Jones  was  merely  grumbling  one  of  his  proverbs,  with- 
out dreaming  how  appropriate  the  words  really  were. 

Donald  Pike  had  been  nagging  and  tormenting  the 
Chickering  set.  He  had  bumped  his  toes  against  Ollie 
Lord's  high-heeled  shoes.  In  the  lock-step  walk  he  had 
put  his  hands  crushingly  on  Tilton  Hull's  high  choker 
collar.  He  had  pitched  against  and  torn  Gene  Skelding's 
flaring  necktie.  And  he  had  even  dared  to  knock  off 
Julitan  Ives'  hat  and  disarrange  his  lovely  bang. 

At  last,  in  his  exuberance,  he  seized  a  handful  of 
clammy  soil  that  was  almost  the  consistency  of  mud,  and 
playfully  tossed  it  at  Lew  Veazie.  It  missed  Veazie, 
and,  by  an  infortuitous  fate,  took  Buck  Badger  smack  in 
the  eye.  Badger,  who  had  seen  Pike's  antics,  clapped  a 
hand  to  his  eye  with  a  grunt  of  pain  and  astonishment. 

"You  scoundrel !"  he  bellowed.  Then  he  lunged  at 
Pike,  with  a  startling  suddenness  that  took  Donald  quite 
off  his  guard  and  threw  him  headlong. 

Badger  believed  that  Pike  had  thrown  the  mud  into 
his  eye  purposely.  There  had  been  bad  feeling  between 
them,  and  even  worse,  for  some  time,  and  the  gap  sepa- 
rating them  seemed  to  be  growing  wider  all  the  while. 
Each  had  said  exasperating  and  belittling  things  of  the 
other,  and  a  wall  of  hate  had  been  built  up  where  once 
there  had  been  a  bond  of  strong  friendship.  The  pain 
in  Badger's  eye  was  excruciating,  and  it  rendered  him  for 
a  little  while  absolutely  reckless.  Fortunately,  it  also 


162  A  Wild  Night 

rendered  him  incapable  of  inflicting  on  his  former  friend 
the  punishment  which  his  rage  dictated. 

For  a  short  time  affairs  were  exciting  enough.  Sopho- 
mores and  freshmen  deserted  the  procession  and  leaped 
for  the  elm  where  the  crowd  was  quickly  gathering. 
Badger  threw  himself  on  Pike,  after  the  latter  was  down, 
and  would  have  proceeded  to  pound  his  face,  without 
doubt,  but  that  his  arms  were  caught  and  held. 

It  was  all  over  within  less  than  two  minutes.  Some  of 
the  Westerner's  friends  held  him  back  and  began  to  talk 
some  sense  into  him,  while  Pike's  friends  drew  him  out 
and  away. 

"I  reckon  this  isn't  the  end  of  it!"  snarled  Badger, 
flinging  the  words  at  Pike.  "There  will  be  a  beautiful 
settlement  of  this,  remember." 

Then  he  hobbled  blindly  out  of  the  crowd  with  some 
acquaintances,  to  have  his  smarting  eye  attended  to,  while 
the  procession  reformed,  and  the  rollicking  students  be- 
gan again  to  shout  their  "Omega  Lambda  Chi." 

The  "beautiful  settlement"  came  at  a  late  hour  that 
night.  Badger  encountered  Pike  while  the  latter  was 
on  his  way  to  his  room.  The  Kansan's  eye  still  pained 
him,  and  his  rage  was  hot.  As  soon  as  he  saw  Pike  he 
stepped  across  the  walk  and  took  him  by  the  nose. 

"That's  the  way  I  treat  such  skunks  as  you !"  he 
hissed,  flinging  Pike  from  him  after  offering  him  that 
deadly  insult  "I  want  to  warn  you  to  keep  out  of  my 


A  Wild  Night.  163 

way  after  this.  If  you  don't,  I'll  treat  you  just  as  I 
would  a  rattler !" 

"You  mean  you  will  kill  me !"  snarled  Pike,  rushing  at 
the  Kansan  in  a  fit  of  blind  rage. 

But  he  was  no  match  for  Badger,  who  flung  him  off 
with  surprising  ease,  and  then  held  him  at  bay  and  at 
arm's  length  by  a  clutch  on  his  throat. 

"I've  a  notion  to  choke  the  breath  out  of  you!"  said 
Badger.  "Don't  tempt  me  too  far,  or  I  might  forget 
myself  and  do  it.  You  know  that  I've  got  a  red-hot,  can- 
tankerous temper  when  I  get  started.  Now  go!  Git! 
If  you  don't,  I'll  lift  you  with  my  shoe.  And  keep  out  of 
my  way,  unless  you  want  trouble!" 

He  pushed  Pike  from  him  with  stinging  scorn. 

"I'll  go !"  said  Pike.  "But  I'll  pay  you  for  to-night's 
work!  See  if  I  don't!  You'll  find  out  that  there  are 
more  ways  of  fighting  than  with  fists.  You  may  wish 
that  you  had  killed  me,  before  you  get  through  with  it !" 

"What  does  the  scoundrel  mean  by  that?"  the  West- 
erner questioned,  staring  at  Pike  as  the  latter  hurried 
away.  "I  reckon  he  is  mean  enough  to  do  anything. 
Well,  he  had  better  have  a  care !" 

He  was  soon  destined  to  feel  the  effects  of  Pike's  threat 
in  a  manner  more  crushing  than  any  knock-down  physical 
blow  which  Pike  could  have  delivered. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

PIKE    AND    BADGER. 

The  next  evening,  which  was  Tuesday  evening,  while 
the  societies  were  hilariously  enjoying  their  annual  cal- 
cium-light procession,  Donald  Pike  took  a  car  and  ha- 
stened to  the  home  of  the  Honorable  Fairfax  Lee.  He 
had  tarried  in  the  campus  long  enough  to  be  sure  that 
Winnie  Lee  was  again  enjoying  the  processional  festivi- 
ties from  one  of  the  dormitory  windows. 

"Nobody  will  know  whether  I  am  in  that  procession 
or  not,"  he  muttered,  as  he  started  toward  Lee's.  "And 
if  they  do  know,  what  is  the  difference?  I'm  under  no 
obligation  to  be  there,  and  I  can  say  that  I  had  a  head- 
ache, or  anything  else  I  want  to,  if  I  choose  to  take  the 
trouble  to  account  for  my  absence." 

To  Pike's  great  satisfaction,  he  found  Fairfax  Lee 
at  home;  and  when  he  told  the  servant  that  he  had  an 
important  communication  to  make,  he  was  invited  into 
the  waiting-room,  and  finally  was  ushered  into  the  pres- 
ence of  Mr.  Lee. 

The  facing  of  Mr.  Lee  in  this  manner,  even  though  he 
could  claim  disinterested  motives,  rather  phased  even 
the  blunted  spirit  of  Donald  Pike.  If  he  had  dared  to, 
he  would  have  committed  his  story  to  writing,  and  so 
brought  it  to  Lee's  attention.  But  things  that  are  writ- 


Pike  and  Badger.  165 

ten  often  have  an  unpleasant  way  of  reappearing,  to  the 
discomfiture  and  undoing  of  the  writer,  and  Pike's  cau- 
tion warned  him  against  such  risks.  Words  merely 
spoken,  he  assured  himself,  can  be  denied,  if  that  becomes 
afterward  necessary.  Written  words,  undestroyed,  can- 
not be  so  easily  escaped. 

"Anything  I  can  do  for  you?"  Mr.  Lee  queried,  when 
Pike  hesitated.  "You  have  a  communication,  I  believe  ?" 

Donald  pulled  himself  together,  and  the  opening  sen- 
tences of  what  he  intended  to  say  came  back  to  him.  He 
had  thought  these  out  with  care,  and  they  seemed  very 
fine  and  even  humanitarian. 

"I  want  you  to  know  at  the  outset,  Mr.  Lee,  that  in 
coming  to  you  with  the  information  I  bear  I  am  wholly 
disinterested.  But  the  truth  is  due  you.  No  one  else 
seems  to  have  had  the  courage  to  tell  you,  and  I  shall." 

Fairfax  Lee  began  to  look  interested. 

"You  are  very  kind,"  he  said,  "and  I  thank  you  in  ad- 
yance  for  your  favor." 

This  was  so  auspicious  a  beginning  that  Pike's  courage 
rose. 

"I  want  to  have  a  frank  talk  with  you  about  a  certain 
young  Yale  man — Mr.  Buck  Badger.  You  must  have 
noticed  that  he  is  very  devoted  in  his  attentions  to  your 
daughter?" 

There  was  no  reply  to  this,  though  Pike  halted,  in  the 
expectation  that  there  would  be  one. 

"I  am  well  acquainted  with  Badger.     In   fact,  until 


1 66  Pike  and  Badger. 

very  recently,  he  was  my  roommate,  and  we  were  good 
friends.  Perhaps  when  I  tell  you  that  he  is  not  a  fit  man 
to  associate  with  your  daughter,  you  may  think  I  am  led 
by  the  fact  that  Badger  and  I  are  not  now  the  friends  we 
were  once.  But  it  is  not  so.  We  are  not  friends  simply 
because  his  baseness  became  so  apparent  to  me  that  I 
could  no  longer  associate  with  him. 

"I  have  thought  this  thing  over  for  a  good  while,  Mr. 
Lee,  and  as  an  honorable  man,  I  did  not  think  I  ought 
to  remain  silent  and  see  things  go  on  as  they  are.  You 
love  your  daughter,  Mr.  Lee?" 

This  last  was  rather  an  effective  shot,  for  Fairfax  Lee 
loved  Winnie  devotedly. 

"All  this  is  very  unpleasant,  Mr.  Pike,  but  I  am  ready 
to  hear  what  you  have  to  say.  I  am  free  to  confess  that 
you  rather  surprise  me." 

"Your  daughter  is  an  admirable  young  lady,  Mr.  Lee. 
And  though  I  cannot  say  that  she  and  I  are  more  than 
the  merest  acquaintances,  I  thought  it  a  shame  that  mat- 
ters should  go  on  as  they  are  without  a  word  from  me 
to  you,  to  let  you  see  what  your  daughter  is  walking  into. 
Or  what  she  would  walk  into,  if  she  should  ever  be  so 
unfortunate  as  to  marry  Buck  Badger!" 

Donald  Pike  had  at  last  contrived  to  get  into  his  tones 
and  manner  a  sympathetic  element  that,  while  it  was 
veriest  hypocricy,  was  very  effective. 

"My  daughter  is  not  married  to  Mr.  Badger  yet !"  said 


Pike  and  Badger.  167 

Lee,  somewhat  bluntly,  a  frown  on  his  usually  pleasant 
face,  for  his  positon  was  far  from  agreeable. 

"And  I  hope  she  may  never  be." 

"You  fail  to  specify,"  Lee  reminded.  "You  make  only 
vague  charges." 

"There  are  many  things,"  said  Pike,  coming  to  the 
point  now  with  great  boldness,  "but  I  shall  name  only 
one.  Buck  Badger  is  a  drunkard." 

Fairfax  Lee  seemed  astonished,  and  the  frown  on  his 
face  deepened. 

"He  is  the  worst  type  of  drunkard.  Not  a  man  who 
drinks  steadily,  but  one  of  those  who  indulge  now  and 
then  in  crazy,  drunken  debauches.  For  weeks,  even 
months,  he  may  not  touch  a  drop  of  liquor.  Then  he  will 
go  on  a  spree.  You  can  verify  this,  I  am  sure,  by  in- 
quiries carefully  made  among  the  students.  More  than 
once  he  has  been  known  to  be  on  a  drunk.  He  was 
drunk  when  he  went  aboard  the  excursion  steamer, 
Crested  Foam,  when  she  was  burned  in  the  bay." 

"What?" 

"It  is  true,  Mr.  Lee,  every  word  of  it.  Your  daughter 
and  a  good  many  others  think  he  was  drugged  by  the 
boat-keeper,  Barney  Lynn,  and  lured  on  the  steamer  for 
the  purpose  of  robbery.  But  when  he  met  Lynn  he  was 
already  raving  blind  drunk,  and  Lynn  merely  took  ad- 
vantage of  his  helpless  condition.  You  can  know  that 
this  is  true  if  you  will  call  or  send  a  man  to  the  saloon  of 
Joe  Connelly.  He  went  to  Connelly's  that  night — or 


168  Pike  and  Badger. 

rather,  the  evening  before — filled  himself  up  on  the  vilest 
decoctions,  and  went  out  from  there  as  drunk  as  a  fool. 
He  has  been  there  before  many  times.  Connelly  knows 
him  well." 

All  this  was  so  circumstantial  that  Fairfax  Lee  was 
alarmed  and  moved.  He  knew  that  Connelly's  was  one 
of  the  worst  dens  of  the  city,  and  he  felt  sure  that  unless 
there  was  something  in  the  story  Pike  would  not  give 
names  in  this  way.  He  resolved  to  learn  the  whole  truth 
about  the  matter. 

"If  what  you  say  is  true,  Buck  Badger  is  not  fit  to  asso- 
ciate with  any  girl,"  he  asserted. 

"Especially  not  with  a  girl  as  innocent  and  unsuspect- 
ing as  your  daughter,  Mr.  Lee.  I  have  seen  that  for  a 
good  while,  and  it  has  been  a  fight  with  my  conscience 
to  keep  from  coming  here  with  this  story.  I  couldn't 
delay  it  longer.  I  trust  you  see  that  I  can  have  no  hope 
of  gain,  and  nothing  but  right  motives  in  bringing  you 
this  story — which  you  will  find  fully  substantiated  by  a 
course  of  inquiry." 

Fairfax  Lee  was  flushed  and  silent. 

"All  of  Badger's  friends,  or  most  of  them,  I  am  sure, 
know  that  he  was  drunk,  and  not  drugged,  when  he  went 
aboard  the  Crested  Foam.  Some  of  them  might  admit 
this  knowledge." 

"You  are  a  sophomore?" 

"Yes." 


Pike  and  Badger.  169 

"And  Mr.  Badger  is  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  you  were  recently  his  friend  and  roommate?" 

"Yes." 

"I  have  your  card,  which  I  will  put  by  for  reference. 
I  presume,  if  I  call  on  you,  you  will  be  willing  to  repeat 
anywhere  what  you  have  said  to  me  here?" 

This  was  unexpected,  and  Pike  hesitated. 

"I  don't  care  to  get  myself  into  trouble  with  Badger. 
He  is  of  the  bulldog,  pugilistic  type,  and  the  first  thing 
he  would  do  would  be  to  assault  me  like  the  bully  he  is. 
I  have  given  you  the  warning.  You  can  get  all  the  proof 
you  want.  Probably  you  would  never  have  heard  of  this 
until  too  late,  if  I  had  not  voluntarily  brought  you  the 
story." 

"You  are  right,"  Lee  admitted.  "Perhaps  that  would 
be  asking  too  much." 

"I  have  struck  the  blow,  Badger,"  Donald  Pike  mut- 
tered, as  he  left  the  handsome  home  of  the  Lees.  "You 
will  find  it  more  of  a  knock-down,  I  fancy,  than  if  I  had 
hit  you  between  the  eyes  with  my  fist.  Nobody  ever 
walks  roughshod  over  Don  Pike  and  gets  off  without 
suffering  for  it.  You  will  hear  something  drop  pretty 
soon." 

And  so,  chuckling,  he  took  his  way  to  the  street-car 
line,  and  returned  to  the  campus  and  the  Yale  jollifi- 
cation. 

The  Kansan  had  accompanied  Winnie  Lee  home  that 


170  Pike  and  Badger. 

evening,  as  usual.  The  hour  was  late,  and  he  did  not 
enter  the  house,  but  kissed  her  good-night  at  the  gate. 

"Good-night  and  pleasant  dreams,  sweetheart!"  he 
said  as  he  turned  to  go. 

His  heart  was  light,  for  he  and  Winnie  had  enjoyed  a 
long  and  loving  talk  on  the  way  home,  and  throughout 
the  evening  there  had  been  no  untoward  incident  to  mar 
his  pleasure.  He  had  noticed  Donald  Pike's  absence,  and 
had  been  glad  of  it,  but  he  merely  supposed  Pike  kept 
away  because  of  the  row  of  the  previous  evening.  If 
there  are  such  things  as  premonitions  of  coming  trouble, 
certainly  they  did  not  distress  Badger  that  night.  Win- 
nie was  also  in  a  happy  frame  of  'mind  as  she  tripped 
lightly  up  the  steps  and  entered  the  house. 

Inza  and  Elsie  had  returned  some  time  before.  As 
she  had  expected,  they  had  retired  to  their  rooms.  She 
was  surprised,  however,  to  find  her  father  waiting  for 
her  in  the  sitting-room,  which  was  brightly  lighted.  As 
she  came  into  the  room,  she  saw  something  ominous  in 
his  face.  She  thought  she  was  to  be  lectured  for  re- 
maining out  so  late. 

"Sit  down,  Winnie,"  he  said.  "I  want  to  have  a  talk 
with  you." 

His  voice  was  even  more  ominous  than  his  face.  She 
came  and  sat  down  by  his  side,  when  she  had  removed 
her  hat.  He  put  his  hand  on  her  head  and  drew  her 
toward  him. 


Pike  and  Badger.  171 

"Did  Mr.  Badger  come  home  with  you,  \Vmnie?"  he 
asked,  and  his  voice  was  slightly  tremulous. 

"Yes,  father.  I  know  I  stayed  a  little  late,  but  it  was 
so  hard  to  get  away  while  so  much  was  going  on.  I 
Jon't  know  when  I  have  had  so  pleasant  an  evening. 
And  besides,  it  was  hard  for  Buck  to  get  away,  and  we 
had  arranged  for  him  to  come  home  with  me.  The  fes- 
tivities had  not  ended  when  we  left." 

"Buck  Badger  must  never  come  home  with  you  again !" 
he  said,  with  a  firmness  and  suddenness  that  took  all  the 
color  out  of  her  cheeks,  and  seemed  to  take  all  the 
breath  out  of  her  body.  She  sat  still,  as  if  frozen  by  the 
statement,  while  a  scared  look  filled  her  eyes.  Then  she 
partly  roused  herself. 

"What — why  do  you  say  that?" 

"I  have  learned  that  he  is  not  fit  to  associate  with  you 
— is  not  fit  to  associate  with  any  girl !" 

"What  have  you  heard,  father?"  she  demanded,  in  a 
trembling  voice.  "I  know  that  whatever  it  is,  it  isn't 
true,  for  Buck  is  fit  to  associate  with  any  girl !" 

She  half-expected  him  to  refer  to  the  fracas  of  the 
evening  before  in  the  campus. 

"If  there  is  one  thing  on  which  I  am  determined,  it  is 
that  my  daughter  shall  never  marry  a  drunkard !" 

"Buck  isn't  a  drunkard !" 

"He  was  drunk  when  he  was  taken  aboard  the  Crested 
Foam  by  that  boatman,  Barney  Lynn." 

"No,  father!" 


172  Pike  and  Badger. 

"You  think  not,  of  course.  You  think  he  was 
drugged." 

"He  was  drugged.  Lynn  drugged  him.  He  was  not 
drunk,  and  he  had  not  been  drinking.  Who  has  been 
telling  you  such  things  ?  I  am  sure  it  cannot  be  any  one 
who  has  any  honor." 

"It  was  some  one  who  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  warn 
me  of  the  fact  that  my  daughter  is  in  danger  of  marry- 
ing a  drunkard.  I  thank  him  for  it." 

"But,  father,  you  would  not  take  the  unsupported  word 
of  any  one,  would  you  ?  I  know  that  Buck  has  touched 
liquor  at  times,  just  as  nearly  all  the  college  men  do, 
but  he  is  not  a  drunkard,  and  he  is  not  even  a  drinking 
man.  And  he  is  now  strictly  temperate.  He  told  me  so 
himself,  that  he  has  taken  a  pledge  with  himself  never 
to  touch  anything  of  the  kind  again.  And  Mr.  Merri- 
well — you  know  that  Mr.  Merriwell  wouldn't  befriend 
and  favor  him  as  he  is  doing  now  if  Buck  were  a  drunk- 
ard." 

"But  I  know,  Winnie,  dear!"  Lee  firmly,  yet  kindly, 
insisted. 

"And  I  know,  father!  Barney  Lynn  confessed  to  me 
that  he  drugged  Buck;  but  he  said  nothing  about  Buck 
being  intoxicated,  which  he  would  have  done,  wouldn't 
he,  if  Buck  had  really  been  intoxicated  when  he  met 
Lynn?" 

The  girl  was  quick  and  alert.  She  understood  that 
80me  desperate  attempt  to  separate  her  from  the  man 


Pike  and  Badger.  173 

she  loved  had  been  made,  and  she  did  not  intend  that  it 
should  succeed  without  an  effort  against  it  on  her  nart. 

"Who  told  you  this— lie,  father?" 

"I  wish  it  was  a  lie !"  Lee  groaned. 

"It  is!" 

"I  have  just  come  from  Connelly's  saloon,  down  in 
one  of  the  worst  parts  of  the  city.  I  was  told  to  go 
there  and  I  would  find  the  evidence  I  wanted.  I  went; 
and  I  have  just  returned.  Badger  was  at  Connelly's  the 
night  before  the  Crested  Foam  excursion.  It  is  an  all- 
night  resort — though  it  professes,  I  believe,  to  close  at 
midnight.  Badger  left  there  at  about  two  or  three 
o'clock,  blindly  intoxicated.  He  was  simply  reeling 
drunk.  He  must  have  gone  from  there  to  the  wharf,  and 
there  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  Barney  Lynn,  who 
drugged  him  for  his  money.  This  is  true,  Winnie.  There 
isn't  the  slightest  doubt  about  it.  I  wish  it  were  all  a 
terrible  mistake,  but  it  isn't.  And  that  was  not  the  first 
time  that  Badger  had  reeled  out  of  Connelly's  far  into 
the  night,  drunk.  He  is  given  to  just  such  drunken 
debauches." 

Winnie  Lee's  heart  seemed  to  have  turned  to  lead  in 
her  bosom.  She  was  cold  from  head  to  feet,  except  that 
in  her  cheeks  bright  spots  burned.  Her  father  looked 
at  her  with  anguished  eyes.  He  noted  the  pallor  and 
the  hectic  spots. 

"Winnie,  I  can't  let  you  throw  yourself  away  on  such 
a  fellow  as  Buck  Badger!  You  must  put  him  out  ol 


174  Pike  and  Badger. 

your  thoughts.  He  is  unworthy  of  you.  I  thought  he 
was  an  honorable  young  man,  and  now  I  find  I  was  mis- 
taken. I  shall  make  further  inquiries,  but  those  I  have 
made  to-night  are  enough  to  condemn  him.  You  must 
not  see  him  again,  and  you  must  have  nothing  further  to 
do  with  him.  I  want  you  to  tell  him  just  what  I  have 
said — or  I  shall  tell  him  myself,  and  give  him  a  piece 
of  my  mind  in  the  bargain." 

Winnie  knew  that  she  was  trembling  as  with  an  ague, 
but  she  tried  to  hold  her  emotions  in  check  that  she  might 
fight  for  herself  and  for  Buck.  Everything  was  at  stake 
now,  she  felt,  for  she  loved  Badger  with  an  absorbing 
love. 

"You  have  simply  been  deceived,  father,"  she  in- 
sisted. "I  know  it.  Like  many  Yale  men,  Buck  has 
been  a  little  wild  at  times.  He  knows  it  and  acknowl- 
edges it.  But  as  for  that  night  and  that  excursion,  that 
isn't  true,  I  don't  care  who  told  you.  Buck  has  a  good 
many  enemies,  and  some  of  them  have  come  to  you  with 
this  story.  Tell  me  who  told  you,  in  the  first  place." 

"It  wouldn't  be  right  just  now  for  me  to  give  his  name. 
And  it  is  not  needed.  Connelly  admitted  that  Badger 
had  been  there  often,  and  had  gone  from  there  drunk 
the  night  before  the  steamer  excursion.  He  remembered 
it,  because  the  story  of  the  fire  and  of  Lynn's  death,  and 
the  drugging  of  Badger,  was  in  the  papers,  and  he  could 
not  forget  the  time.  I  wish  it  wasn't  true,  Winnie ;  but 
it  is  true.  It  will  be  hard,  perhaps,  for  you  to  give  him 


Pike  and  Badger.  175 

up,  but  better  that  than  for  him  to  make  you  unhappy, 
as  he  is  sure  to  do." 

"Hard!"  she  mentally  cried.     "It  will  kill  me!" 

He  looked  at  her  pathetically,  yet  with  decision  and 
firmness. 

"Make  up  your  mind  that  he  is  unworthy.  I  will  bring 
you  more  proofs,  if  necessary.  But  I,  first  of  all,  lay 
on  you  my  commands.  You  must  not  see  him  again, 
except  to  tell  him  that  he  cannot  call  again,  and  that  you 
cannot  be  anything  to  each  other  hereafter  but  the  merest 
acquaintances." 

Man  of  affairs  and  of  the  world  as  he  was,  Fairfax 
Lee  had  not  yet  learned  that  love  cannot  be  made  to 
come  and  go  at  will.  If  the  little  god  is  blind,  he  is  also 
stubborn,  and  has  a  way  of  his  own. 

"I  can't,  father!"  Winnie  begged.  "You  must  not 
ask  it  of  me." 

"What?  You  would  not  continue  to  go  with  him, 
knowing  what  I  have  told  you?  You  would  not  permit 
a  drunkard  to  pay  you  attentions,  or  a  man  who  is  in  the 
habit  of  going  on  wild  debauches  ?" 

"No.  But  Buck  is  not  that  kind  of  a  man.  You  have 
simply  been  deceived." 

"I  have  given  my  orders,"  said  Lee,  with  a  sternness 
he  seldom  used  in  speaking  to  Winnie.  "I  expect  that 
they  will  be  obeyed.  It  is  useless  to  argue  the  matter. 
Buck  Badger  must  not  come  into  this  house.  I  will 
write  him  a  note  to  that  effect,  myself.  You  shall  not 


I7&  Pike  and  Badger. 

see  him  again!  I  shall  tell  him  in  plain  words  just 
what  I  have  learned,  and  that  this  house  and  your  com- 
pany are  forbidden  to  him." 

"But,  father " 

"We  will  not  talk  any  more  about  it.  You  are  stub- 
born to-night.  You  will  think  better  of  it  in  the  morn- 
ing. No  one — no  one,  Winnie,  loves  you  as  I  do!  I 
have  given  you  every  advantage.  You  shall  not  throw 
yourself  away  on  any  one." 

He  got  up,  as  if  to  end  the  interview. 

The  room  and  its  belongings  seemed  swinging  wildly 
round  in  a  crazy  dance  before  the  eyes  of  Winnie  Lee. 
She  grasped  at  her  chair  for  support.  She  seemed  unable 
to  lift  herself.  In  her  heart  there  was  only  one  cry — 
one  wild  cry:  "Buck!  Buck!  Buck!" 

By  a  great  effort,  she  at  last  arose  from  her  chair.  Her 
father  saw  the  marblelike  pallor  of  her  face,  and,  touched 
by  this  sign  of  distress,  he  came  over,  put  his  arms  about 
her  and  kissed  her.  Her  cheek,  against  which  he 
pressed  his  lips,  seemed  cold  as  ice. 

"Don't  be  foolish,  dear !"  he  pleaded.  "You  shouldn't 
grieve  over  a  man  who  is  so  manifestly  unworthy  of 
you.  You  know  that  I  love  you,  and  that  I  haven't  said 
these  things  to  give  you  pain,  but  because  it  is  my  duty 
as  your  father.  Now,  good  night,  dear." 

"Good  night !"  she  said,  as  if  in  a  dream,  and  blindly 
.walked  toward  the  door, 


Pike  and  Badger.  177 

In  her  room,  she  threw  herself  across  her  bed. 

"Oh,  what  shall  I  do?"  she  moaned.  "Buck!  Buck! 
Buck !  Who  has  told  such  terrible  lies  on  you,  dear  ?" 

And  so  she  lay  there,  moaning  out  a  grief  that  was 
too  great  for  tears. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    BLOW    FALLS. 

The  next  afttcnoon  the  Westerner  received  this  note, 
which  was  delivered  at  his  room  by  a  boy,  who  went 
away  before  Badger  had  a  chance  to  question  him: 

"MR.  BUCK  BADGER:  Certain  facts  have  come  to  my 
knowledge  which  show  that  you  are  not  the  man  I  sup- 
posed you  to  be.  I  find  that  you  are  not  only  a  drinking 
man,  but  that  you  often  become  grossly  intoxicated,  and 
that  you  were  so  when  lured  aboard  the  Crested  Foam  by 
Barney  Lynn.  Under  these  circumstances,  you  cannot 
expect  that  I  will  longer  permit  your  attentions  to  my 
daughter.  I  ask  you,  therefore,  not  to  try  to  see  her 
again,  and  not  again  to  call  at  my  house,  where  you  are 
most  unwelcome.  If  there  is  any  spark  of  manhood  or 
gentlemanliness  left  in  you,  you  will  respect  my  wishes 
^nd  commands  in  this  matter.  Yours, 

"FAIRFAX  LEE." 

The  Kansan  stared  at  the  paper  as  if  he  could  not  be- 
lieve his  eyes,  while  a  flush  of  hot  displeasure  crept  into 
his  dark  face. 

"Who  has  been  telling  him  that?"  he  growled,  jam- 
ming the  note  down  on  his  table,  and  then  picking  it  up 
to  read  again.  "I'll  break  the  neck  of  the  man  that  did 
that.  'Not  try  to  see  her  again?'  Well,  I  don't  think  I 


The  Blow  Falls.  179 

I  allow  I  shall  see  her  every  chance  I  get,  and  whenever 
I  choose,  and  I'd  like  to  tell  Lee  so.  Why,  what " 

He  got  up  from  the  table  and  began  to  walk  back  and 
forth  like  a  caged  tiger.  He  was  sure  that  some  enemy 
had  struck  at  him  in  this  way.  Suddenly  he  halted,  and 
the  pupils  of  his  eyes  contracted. 

"Ah!"  he  snarled.  "I  reckon  that  was  the  work  of 
Don  Pike.  He  said  he'd  strike  me  in  a  way  that  would 
be  worse  than  if  he  hit  me  with  his  fist,  and  this  is 
what  he  meant!  Well,  I'll  settle  with  you,  Pike,  for  that, 
and  don't  you  ever  forget  it !  You  won't  forget,  either, 
I  allow,  when  I'm  through  with  you.  That's  what- 
ever!" 

He  crumpled  up  the  note,  hastily  stuck  it  into  a  pocket, 
jammed  his  hat  on  his  head,  and  left  his  room  hurriedly, 
locking  the  door.  He  did  not  stop  in  the  campus.  It 
was  filled  with  Yale  fellows,  and  the  fence  in  front  of 
Durfee  Hall  was  crowded.  He  saw  here  and  there  men 
whom  he  knew  well,  and  who  nodded  to  him.  He  hardly 
took  time  to  return  the  greetings. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Badger  now?"  rumbled 
Browning.  "He  is  charging  along  like  a  blind  bull  at  a 
fence." 

"Why  do  you  ever  notice  what  the  fellow  does  at  all  ?" 
Bart  Hodge  grumbled. 

"Well,  even  cranks  are  interesting,"  said  Dismal  Jones, 
also  looking  curiously  after  Badger.  * 

"Curiosities  likewise,"  remarked  Danny  Griswold,  puff- 


i8o  The  Blow  Falls. 

ing  at  his  cigarette.  "And  since  our  dear  Merry  has 
just  about  adopted  this  wild  bull  from  the  plain,  my  in- 
terest in  him  as  a  curiosity  has  increased." 

"As  a  guess,  I  should  say  he  is  hunting  somebody  to 
fight,"  said  Diamond. 

"Then  he  will  be  accommodated  in  mighty  short  or- 
der," Browning  prophesied.  "I  never  yet  saw  a  fellow 
go  after  trouble  and  return  without  finding  what  he 
sought.  Mr.  Badger  is  not  the  only  fellow  who  goes 
pawing  round  with  his  hair  standing  and  blood  in  his 
eye." 

"Speaking  from  experience,  Browning?"  mildly  in- 
quired Bink  Stubbs,  scratching  a  match  to  light  a  ciga- 
rette. "You  have  gone  in  search  of  trouble  a  few  times, 
to  my  knowledge." 

"And  you're  searching  for  it  now !"  grunted  Browning, 
giving  the  little  fellow  a  warning  look. 

All  unaware  of  the  fact  that  his  rapid  transit  across 
the  campus  had  occasioned  unusual  comment,  Badger 
hurried  on,  and  finally  entered  a  car  which  took  him  to 
the  office  of  Fairfax  Lee. 

"Is  Mr.  Lee  in?"  he  asked  of  the  clerk  in  the  oute* 
room. 

"Yes." 

"Will  you  give  him  my  card,  please,  and  tell  him  1 
should  like  to  see  him  a  few  minutes?" 

The  clerk  took  the  card  and  disappeared.  He  was 
back  immediately. 


The  Blow  Falls.  181 

"Mr.  Lee  says  that  he  cannot  see  you,  sir!" 
"Did  he  say  that  he  is  engaged?" 
"No,  sir.     He  does  not  care  to  see  you !" 
The  Westerner's  dark  face  burned,  and  he  bit  his  lip 
to  keep  the  hot  words  from  rushing  out  in  a  torrent.     He 
stood  for  a  moment,  hesitating.     But  a  door  separated 
him,  he  believed,  from  Mr.  Lee.    He  was  almost  ready 
to  push  open  that  door  and  confront  Lee  and  demand 
an  explanation  of  the  letter  forbidding  him  to  see  Winnie 
again.     But  he  got  the  better  of  himself,  and  walked  out 
of  the  office. 

"If  he  thinks  he  can  bluff  me  out,  or  freeze  me  out, 
he  don't  know  me!"  he  grated,  as  he  turned  away.  "I 
shall  see  Winnie  as  often  as  I  can.  Hanged  if  I  don't 
go  up  there  right  now !" 

With  the  Kansan,  to  think  was  to  act.  And  in  a  few 
minutes  he  was  in  another  car  speeding  toward  the  home 
of  the  Lees. 

"If  I  don't  get  to  see  her,  perhaps  I  can  find  out  some- 
thing about  this  mess  from  Inza  or  Elsie.  They  may  be 
able  to  clear  away  the  mystery.  I  allow  I  never  was  in 
so  horrible  a  snarl  in  my  life.  But  I'll  punch  Pike's 
head  for  this,  and  don't  you  forget  it!  That's  what- 
ever !" 

But  the  Westerner  met  quite  as  chilling  a  reception  at 
Lee's  home  as  at  the  office.  The  servant  who  met  him  at 
the  door  had  received  her  instructions. 


1 82  The  Blow  Falls. 

"You  are  not  to  be  admitted  to  the  house,"  she  said 
sharply. 

"Is  Miss  Lee  in?"  he  persisted. 

"No." 

"Is  that  true,  or  is  it  one  of  the  society  lies  which  de- 
clares that  a  lady  is  out  when  she  is  in?"  he  bluntly  de- 
manded. 

To  this  there  was  no  answer.  The  servant  began  to 
close  the  door.  Badger  stopped  this  by  taking  hold  of 
the  knob. 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  the  girl,  who  was  some- 
what frightened  by  the  Westerner's  violent  manner. 

"I  want  to  see  Miss  Winnie  Lee." 

"She  is  not  at  home." 

"Then  I  want  to  see  Miss  Inza  Burrage." 

"She  is  not  in." 

"Then  I  should  like  to  see  Miss  Elsie  Bellwood." 

"She  is  not  in." 

Badger  suddenly  changed  his  tactics.  Bluster  would 
not  do,  he  saw.  He  put  his  hand  into  a  pocket  and  drew 
out  a  five-dollar  note,  which  he  held  up  alluringly. 

"If  you  will  take  a  note  for  me  to'  Miss  Lee,  I  will 
give  you  this  five  dollars.'' 

The  servant  shook  her  head  and  again  tried  to  close  the 
door. 

"If  you  will  take  a  note  to  either  Miss  'Burrage  or 
Miss  Bellwood,  I  will  give  you  the  five  dollars." 

Once  more  the  servant  sought  to  close  the  door. 


The  Blow  Falls.  183 

"I  have  my  orders,  Mr.  Badger.  I  cannot  afford  to 
lose  my  place  for  five  dollars  or  fifty  dollars.  And  I 
wouldn't  do  what  you  ask,  anyway.  If  you  do  not  let 
me  close  the  door,  I  shall  call  for  help." 

"All  right!"  said  Badger  gruffly,  releasing  the  door. 
"But  I  will  see  those  young  ladies,  just  the  same." 

To  accomplish  this  he  remained  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
house  until  long  after  nightfall.  But  he  was  wholly 
unrewarded  for  his  vigil,  and  at  last,  distressed,  humili- 
ated, and  angry,  he  took  a  car  for  the  college  grounds, 
raging  like  a  lion  against  Donald  Pike.  Even  an  enemy 
of  Badger  must  have  pitied  him  that  night. 

The  campus  was  filled  with  Yale  men  and  their 
friends,  and  there  were  excitement  and  sport,  fun  and 
laughter,  music  and  merriment  galore.  But  Badger 
could  enjoy  none  of  it.  He  had  no  thought  for  anything 
but  Winnie  Lee  and  the  treatment  he  had  received  from 
her  father.  He  wondered  if  she  were  at  home,  and  was 
half  of  the  opinion  that  Lee  had  spirited  her  out  of  the 
city.  His  disappointment  in  not  seeing  either  Elsie  or 
Inza  was  bitter,  for  somehow  he  felt  that  if  he  could 
see  them  they  would  be  willing  to  help  him. 

With  this  feeling,  he  now  began  to  look  for  Merriwell 
and  his  friends,  but  they  were  not  to  be  found.  He 
went  to  Merry's  room,  and  then  from  room  to  room,  even 
venturing  finally  to  knock  on  Hodge's  door.  Later  he 
learned  that  Hodge  and  Merry  had  called  at  the  home  of 
Fairfax  Lee,  after  he  had  given  over  his  vigil,  and  had 


184  The  Blow  Falls. 

been  cordially  admitted,  and  had  accompanied  Inza  and 
Elsie  to  a  banquet,  which  was  attended  by  the  whole 
Merriwell  set. 

The  Westerner  was  more  successful  in  his  search  for 
Merriwell  the  next  day,  though  he  did  not  get  a  chance 
to  speak  to  Frank  until  the  afternoon. 

Badger  was  looking  haggard  and  distressed  as  he  came 
up  to  Merry.  They  were  in  the  campus,  and  Yale's  fa- 
mous "slapping"  ceremony  was  soon  to  begin.  The 
campus  was  filling  with  men,  and  the  members  of  the 
junior  class  were  out  in  full  force,  for  out  of  that  junior 
class,  by  the  "slapping"  process,  forty-five  men  were  to 
be  selected  as  members  of  "Bones,"  "Keys,"  and  Wolf's 
Head. 

"I  looked  everywhere  for  you  last  night,"  said  Bad- 
ger; and  Frank  told  him  of  the  banquet. 

"Let's  go  somewhere  where  we  can  talk,"  the  West- 
erner invited,  not  relishing  the  throngs.  "The  air  in 
here  chokes  me." 

Merry  took  him  by  the  arm,  and  they  pushed  out  of 
the  crowd. 

"Now,  what  it  is?"  Frank  asked. 

Badger  could  have  made  a  long  story  of  it,  but  he  cut 
it  down  to  narrow  limits,  acquainting  Merriwell,  in  as 
few  words  as  possible,  with  the  trouble  that  had  come 
upon  him.  Frank  looked  grave. 

"This  is  serious,  Badger,"  he  said,  not  caring  to  coa- 


The  Blow  Falls.  185 

ceal  from  the  Kansan  his  true  feelings  concerning  it 
"But  I'm  ready  to  help  you  in  any  way  I  can." 

"My  fool  jealousy  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole 
thing!"  Badger  admitted.  "Just  because  I  was  jealous 
of  Hodge,  I  went  on  that  drunk  and  let  Barney  Lynn 
fool  me  into  going  aboard  the  boat  and  in  drugging  me* 
Jealousy  and  whisky.  That's  what  did  it." 

"I  think  you  are  right  there." 

"But,  of  course,  Don  Pike  is  the  fellow  that  peached. 
And  I'll  smash  his  face  for  it!  I  allow  that  everything 
would  have  gone  on  as  smooth  as  silk  but  for  that." 

"Now,  what  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"Hanged  if  I  know,  Merriwell!  I'll  be  driven  to 
something  desperate,  soon.  Tell  me  what  the  girls  said 
about  it." 

"I  don't  think  they  knew  anything  about  it.  They  re- 
ported that  Winnie  had  been  sick  in  her  room,  and  the 
doctor  had  instructed  that  they  were  not  to  see  her  or 
disturb  her." 

"Is  she  in  the  house,  then?" 

"I  can't  tell.  She  may  be,  and  she  may  not  be.  One 
thing  is  sure,  Buck.  Her  father  is  not  going  to  let  you 
see  her  again.  And  that  makes  me  think  it  possible  he 
has  spirited  her  out  of  the  city.  If  she  is  in  the  house, 
the  pretense  that  she  is  sick  cannot  be  kept  up  long." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  Kansan  dubiously. 
"I  allow  that  likely  she  is  sick.  The  thing  has  almost 
sent  me  to  bed,  and  the  effect  on  her  might  be  as  bad." 


1 86  The  Blow  Falls. 

"Worse,  probably." 

"If  she  is  sick  in  that  house,  I'm  going  to  see  her,  if  I 
have  to  fight  my  way  in." 

"And  be  arrested.  No,  that's  not  the  way,  Badger. 
I'll  see  Elsie  and  Inza  this  evening,  and  we'll  find  out 
something  definite." 

"You  have  helped  me  before  in  this  matter,  Merry!" 
the  Kansan  gratefully  exclaimed. 

"And  am  ready  to  do  so  again.  I  feel  more  certain 
now  than  I  did  then  that  Winnie  is  not  in  danger  of 
throwing  herself  away  on  you.  Pardon  me  for  speaking 
so  plainly." 

"Oh,  it's  all  right!"  the  Westerner  admitted,  though 
liis  face  colored.  "I  used  to  be  a  dog  when  I  boozed 
round,  and  that's  what  Fairfax  Lee  has  against  me  now, 
of  course.  He  thinks  I  am  the  same.  But  I've  sworn 
off  on  the  stuff,  and  you  know  it." 

"I'll  have  a  talk  with  the  girls,  and  we'll  see  then  how 
the  land  lays,  and  what  can  be  done." 

"It  will  be  a  favor — the  biggest  favort  I  reckon,  that 
any  man  ever  received." 

A  number  of  voices  were  shouting  Merriwell's  name 
in  the  campus. 

"You'll  have  to  go,  I  allow,"  said  the  Westerner,  grip- 
ping Merriwell's  hand.  "But  the  first  news  you  get 
send  it  to  me.  Don't  stop  for  expense,  or  anything  else. 
Send  it  along — cab,  telephone,  telegraph,  special  mes- 


The  Blow  Falls.  187 

senger,  or  a  dozen,  if  there's  danger  one  may  not  reach 
me — anything,  just  so  you  whoop  the  news  to  me.  I'll 
be  walking  barefooted  on  cactus  spines  every  minute 
from  now  until  you  make  some  kind  of  a  report." 

Merriwell  returned  to  the  campus,  where  Yale  tradi- 
tion was  gathering  the  .members  of  the  junior  class  back 
of  the  fence,  near  Durfee  Hall. 

The  ceremony  of  "slapping"  is  peculiar  in  many  re- 
spects. No  official  announcement  is  made  of  the  fact 
that  this  formal  and  queer  manner  of  announcing  elec- 
tions to  the  senior  societies  is  enacted.  No  announce- 
ment of  the  coming  event  is  given  to  the  public.  The 
members  of  the  junior  class  are  not  notified  by  any  one 
that  they  are  expected  to  appear  on  that  spot  by  the  fence 
at  a  certain  time  to  be  ready  to  be  "slapped,"  if  they 
have  been  lucky  enough  to  be  chosen  for  membership  in 
the  great  senior  societies.  Nevertheless,  the  entire  junior 
class,  with  half  the  college,  and  hundreds  of  spectators 
from  the  city,  gather  there  on  the  third  Thursday  after- 
noon in  May,  between  the  hours  of  four  and  six  o'clock, 
and  witness  or  participate  in  the  spectacle. 

"Slates"  had  been  made  up  weeks  before,  and  shrewd 
guesses  given  as  to  who  would  be  chosen  to  this  society 
and  to  that,  though  it  was  all  mere  guesswork.  Nearly 
every  one  had  agreed,  however,  that  Merriwell  would  go 
to  "Bones,"  as  the  leading  society  is  called,  and  that 
"Bones"  would  be  glad  to  get  him,  and  would  be  re- 
ceiving an  honor  as  well  as  conferring  one.  Buck  Bad- 


1 88  The  Blow  Falls. 

ger,  restless  as  a  wolf,  stood  back  and  gloomily  watched 
this  gathering,  and  heard  the  buzz  of  talk  and  con- 
jecture without  really  comprehending  a  word.  Often  he 
was  not  aware  that  he  saw  the  things  that  were  transpir- 
ing directly  under  his  eyes. 

But  at  length  he  aroused  himself.  Elsie  and  Inza  had 
suddenly  come  within  the  range  of  his  vision,  and  the 
sight  of  them  stirred  him  out  of  his  moody  trance.  He 
moved  in  their  direction,  but  before  he  could  come  up 
with  them,  to  his  great  disappointment,  the  pushing 
crowd  swallowed  them.  Then  he  went  in  search  of  Mer- 
riwell, whom  he  found  without  trouble,  for  Merriwell 
was  with  the  expectant  juniors. 

"Which  way  did  they  go?"  Frank  asked. 

"Toward  that  building — I  mean  in  that  direction.  But 
I  lost  them  in  the  crowd." 

"I  thought  they  might  come  down  this  afternoon! 
(Winnie  wasn't  with  them?" 

"No." 

Frank  was  about  to  start  away  to  find  the  girls,  if  he 
could,  and  question  them  in  the  interest  of  Badger  and 
Winnie,  but  at  that  moment  he  was  approached  by  Jack 
Diamond,  one  of  the  seniors. 

Diamond  walked  up  to  Merriwell  with  all  the  dignity 
of  the  Great  Mogul  of  Kuddyhuddy,  and  gave  him  a  re- 
sounding slap  on  the  back.  Diamond  belonged  to 
"Bones,"  and  the  slap  was  a  notification  that  the  society, 
had  chosen  Merriwell. 


The  Blow  Falls.  189 

"I  can't  go  now,  Badger,"  said  Frank,  a  bit  regret- 
fully. 

Then  be  left  the  campus  for  his  room,  as  each  man 
slapped  is  expected  to  do,  followed  by  Diamond,  where 
he  was  notified  formally  of  his  election  and  told  to  ap- 
pear for  initiation  at  the  society  hall  on  Friday  evening. 

Of  what  that  initiation  consists  no  one  not  a  member 
ever  knows,  and  no  member  will  ever  tell.  Its  mys- 
teries are  more  impenetrable  than  Free  Masonry. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

BUCK    AND     WINNIE. 

Shortly  after  nightfall,  Badger  started  again  for  the 
residence  of  Fairfax  Lee.  He  had  no  definite  plans,  but 
rather  blindly  hoped  something  might  turn  up  to  favor 
him.  He  confessed  to  himself  that  he  was  "all  gone  to 
pieces,"  but  he  had  no  desire  to  go  into  some  liquor  den 
and  load  up  with  bad  whisky,  as  he  was  once  accustomed 
to  do  when  trouble  or  disappointment  struck  him. 

"It  was  red-eye  that  got  me  into  this,  I  reckon,  .and 
I'll  let  the  stuff  alone  hereafter.  I've  promised  to,  and 
I  will,  no  matter  what  comes.  That's  whatever!" 

And  when  Buck  Badger  put  his  foot  down  he  usually 
put  it  down  hard. 

"I'd  feel  better  if  I  could  only  meet  Don  Pike  and 
swell  up  his  eyes  for  him,"  he  continued  to  growl.  "But 
the  coward  has  sloped." 

It  did,  indeed,  seem  that  Pike  was  making  an  effort  to 
keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  Westerner.  The  very  sight 
of  the  Lee  home  quickened  Badger's  heart-beats.  He 
felt  that  he  would  give  anything  to  know  if  Winnie  was 
in  the  house,  or  had  been  spirited  away. 

"Like  enough,  her  father  has  locked  her  in  her  room ! 
But  there  ain't  any  keys  whatever  that  are  made  strong 


Buck  and  Winnie.  191 

enough  to  keep  me  from  seeing  her.  I'll  do  it  sooner  or 
feter." 

Fortune  favored  the  Westerner — fortune  and  his 
sweetheart,  Winnie  Lee.  Winnie  was  as  wildly  anxious 
to  see  Buck  as  he  was  to  see  her.  She  had  been  locked 
in  her  room  for  stubbornness  in  refusing  to  promise 
never  to  see  Badger  again,  and  the  other  girls  had  been 
told  that  she  was  ill  and  could  not  be  seen.  They  knew 
better  now,  for  Winnie  had  finally  bribed  and  coaxed 
one  of  the  servants  to  tell  them  the  truth.  They  had 
not  known  it  long,  but  long  enough  for  Inza — indignant 
as  she  was  brave,  and  brave  as  she  was  indignant — to 
send  to  Winnie  a  note,  signed  by  herself  and  Elsie, 
assuring  the  unhappy  girl  of  their  sympathy  and  firm 
friendship.  And  that  note  was  wrapped  round  a  door- 
key  which  fitted  Winnie's  door,  which  the  servant  was 
bribed  to  carry. 

So  it  came  about  that  shortly  after  nightfall  Winnie 
let  herself  out  of  her  room,  and  creeping  down  some 
familiar  halls  and  stairways,  emerged  into  the  grounds 
surrounding  the  house.  Then  she  turned  toward  the 
street.  She  did  not  know  what  she  meant  to  do,  only 
she  had  a  feeling  that  Buck  was  somewhere  in  the  vi- 
cinity trying  to  find  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  her.  She 
had  felt  sure  that  he  would  not  abandon  the  attempt  to 
communicate  with  her.  She  had  on  her  jacket,  with  a 
scarf  thrown  over  her  head.  She  felt  that  she  would 
not  be  easily  recognized. 


192  Buck  and  Winnie. 

She  stopped  as  she  drew  near  the  corner  which  gave 
a  view  down  the  street.  There  was  a  stir  beyond  the 
wall.  The  next  instant  a  form  came  flying  over  the 
fence. 

"Winnie!" 

"Buck !" 

It  was  Badger! 

"I  have  been  crazy  to  see  you !"  he  whispered,  clasping- 
her  tightly  in  his  arms.  "I  knew  it  wasn't  your  fault 
that  I  did  not  get  to  see  you.  Have  they  had  you 
locked  up?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  fervently  returning  the  kiss.  "I 
just  got  out  of  the  room.  Somehow,  I  felt  that  you 
were  down  here,  and  I  slipped  down  as  soon  as  I  could." 

"I  knew  you  were  true  as  steel,"  he  fervently  declared. 
"Nothing  whatever  could  ever  have  made  me  believe 
otherwise." 

"Did  father  write  to  you  ?" 

"Yes.  He  told  me  never  to  come  here  again,  and  that 
I  must  not  try  to  see  you.  I  came  to  the  house,  and 
the  servant  said  you  were  not  in,  and  would  not  admit 
me  even  when  I  asked  for  Elsie  and  Inza.  I  have  had 
an  awful  time." 

"I  have  nearly  died!"  she  confessed.  "Oh,  it  has 
simply  been  terrible !  I  thought  once  I  was  going  crazy. 
Father  does  not  understand  how  he  has  tortured  me,  or 
he  would  not  do  it,  I  know.  He  cannot  realize  what  it 
means.  He  simply  thinks  I  am  still  a  child,  and  that  I 


Buck  and  Winnie.  193 

ought  to  submit  to  him  in  this  matter,  as  I  have  always 
done  in  all  other  things." 

"You  are  old  enough  now  to  have  a  mind  of  your 
own,  I  allow!" 

"And  he  has  heard  such  awful  stories  about  you,  Buck. 
Just  terrible  things." 

That  deep  rage  against  Donald  Pike  struggled  again 
in  the  heart  of  the  Kansan. 

"I  think  I  know  who  told  him.  What  were  the  things, 
anyway  ?" 

He  said  this  with  a  great  dread,  for  he  already  knew. 

"Oh,  I  knew  you  were  not  guilty,  Buck!  Never 
fancy  for  a  moment  that  I  thought  you  guilty.  I  told 
him  you  were  innocent.  I  knew  that  it  couldn't  be  true 
that  you  were" — she  sobbed — "drunk  when  you  went 
aboard  the  Crested  Foam." 

Badger  winced  as  if  stabbed.  The  dying  boat-keeper, 
Barney  Lynn,  confessed  to  drugging  Badger,  but  did 
not  tell  Winnie  that  Badger  was  drunk  at  the  time.  The 
Westerner  knew  this,  and  had 'been,  as  he  had  admitted 
to  Merriwell,  just  coward  enough  to  be  glad  that  Lynn 
did  not  tell  Winnie  the  whole  truth.  Now,  as  the  sweat 
of  a  great  inward  struggle  came  out  on  his  face,  he 
wished  he  had  been  courageous  enough  to  inform  her 
of  the  real  facts,  instead  of  sheltering  himself  behind 
that  palatial  confession  of  the  boat-keeper.  It  was  a 
virtual  falsehood  that  was  coming  home  to  him  in  a  most 
unpleasant  manner. 


194  Buck  and  Winnie. 

"I  have  stood  up  for  you,  Buck,  against  everything 
that  father  could  say,"  Winnie  artlessly  and  innocently 
continued.  "When  he  insisted  that  you  were  drunk  at 
the  time,  I  told  him  I  knew  it  was  not  so;  and  I  have 
stood  by  it.  He  thinks  he  has  discovered  proofs  from  a 
saloon-keeper  named  Connelly,  who  keeps  a  vile  resort 
somewhere  down  in  the  worst  part  of  New  Haven.  Con- 
nelly says  you  were  intoxicated  at  his  house  that  night. 
But  I  told  father  that  the  same  fellow  who  gave  him  the 
information  against  you  in  the  first  place  must  have  hired 
Connelly  to  say  that.  A  man  who  will  sell  liquor  will 
lie,  you  know,  Buck !" 

Badger  was  violently  trembling,  but  Winnie,  in  the 
ecstatic  joy  of  meeting  him,  did  not  notice  it.  There  was 
a  tempest  in  the  Kansan's  soul.  Winnie's  sweet  and 
trusting  faith  in  him  filled  him  with  an  anguishing 
shame.  Could  he  tell  her  now  that  he  was  drunk  that 
night — that  all  the  things  said  against  him  by  Connelly 
and  that  unknown  informant  were  true?  Would  she  not 
turn  against  him  if  he  did?  Would  she  not  despise  him? 
Would  not  her  love  be  obliterated?  Badger  felt  as  if 
the  ground  were  reeling  under  his  feet. 

Once  he  was  about  to  give  away  to  the  evil  impulses 
that  were  fighing  against  him.  But  he  did  not.  At 
last,  as  she  chattered  on,  so  strongly  asserting  her  faith 
in  his  innocence,  he  caught  her  convulsively  to  him. 

"Winnie !"  he  gasped,  and  his  voice  was  so  hoarse  and 
unnatural  that  she  was  startled.  "My  God!  Winnie, 


Buck  and  Winnie.  195 

don't  say  those  things !  I  know  that  when  I  confess  the 
truth  to  you  you  will  feel  that  I  am  the  biggest  scoun- 
drel that  ever  walked.  But  I  must  tell  you.  I  was  a 
coward  and  a  fool,  I  reckon,  for  not  telling  you  before. 
But  I  just  couldn't,  Winnie!  But  those  things  are 
true!  I  was  drunk  that  night — I  was  at  Connelly's — I 
was_j' 

Her  form  seemed  to  grow  rigid  in  his  arms. 

"I  must  tell  you  the  truth  now,  if  it  kills  me!"  he 
continued,  almost  gasping  out  the  words.  "And  if  you 
cast  me  off,  I  believe  it  will  kill  me!  But  it  seems  to 
me  that  I'd  rather  die  than  to  have  you  think  me  inno- 
cent when  I  am  guilty.  I  could  never  stand  it  in  the 
world.  I'm  a  dog,  I  allow  !  I'm  not  fit  to  associate  with 
you  whatever — not  in  the  least!  Your  father  is  right 
about  that.  I  see  it  now,  though  I  didn't  before.  But, 
Winnie,  I  love  you,  and  I  love  you!  That  is  all  I  can 
say.  I  allow  I  haven't  a  right  to  say  that  now,  but  I 
must  say  it.  You  won't  cast  me  off  for  this?  You  will 
give  me  another  show?  Before  God?  I  haven't  touched 
the  stuff  since  that  night !  Not  a  drop !  And  I'll  never 
touch  it  again!" 

"Buck,"  she  whispered,  at  last,  "I  wish  you  had  told 

me  that  at  the  very  first" 

"And  you  wouldn't  have  spoken  to  me  again?" 
"Yes,  Buck,  I  should  have  spoken  to  you  again.     I 

should   have  been   very   sorry,   Buck.     I    should   have 


196  Buck  and  Winnie. 

grieved  over  it,  as  I  do  now.  But  I  should  have  loved 
you  just  the  same,  Buck." 

"Then  you  do  love  me?  You  do  not  intend  to  tell 
me  to  go  and  never  speak  to  you  again?" 

"Don't  you  understand  a  girl's  heart  any  better  than 
that,  Buck?  She  never  casts  a  man  off  for  such  things, 
if  she  truly  loves  him — though,  perhaps,  she  ought  to! 
Love  isn't  a  thing  of  the  head,  but  of  the  heart.  I  love 
you,  Buck,  and  I  am  very  sorry!" 

He  held  her  as  if  he  meant  never  to  let  her  go,  and 
she  submitted  to  his  crushing  caress. 

"You  are  true — true — true  as  steel!"  he  exultantly 
cried. 

"Be  careful,  or  you  will  be  heard,  dear!  We  are 
right  by  the  house,  remember." 

"Is  your  father  in?" 

"No,  but  he  may  return  at  any  time.  It  would  be  ter- 
rible if  he  should  discover  us  here." 

"What  are  we  to  do?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  haven't  had  time  to  think. 
What  you  have  confessed  has  so  upset  me  that  I  seem 
to  know  nothing  else.  I  can't  think  of  anything  else. 
You  see,  Buck,  I  can't  tell  father  any  more  that  you 
were  not — drunk  that  night!" 

The  hated  word  seemed  to  choke  her. 

"No!" 

"And  what  shall  I  say  to  him?" 


Buck  and  Winnie.  197 

"I  reckon  that  is  entirely  too  much  for  me." 

"But  I  will  stand  up  for  you  all  I  can!" 
I  allow  that  you  are  an  angel!"  he  enthusiastically 
declared. 

"You  have  a  low  conception  of  angels.  I  can't  im- 
agine one  meeting  a  man  in  this  surreptitious  fashion. 
Really,  Buck,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it,  it  is  almost 
as  bad  as — as — what  you  did  at  Connelly's,  you  know!" 

"Not  on  your  life,  it  isn't !  It's  the  thing  I  knew  you 
would  do — and  there  isn't  any  truer  or  better  girl  what- 
ever on  this  earth!" 

"I  am  glad  you  think  so,  Buck." 

The  Westerner  was  trembling  as  much  now  with  de- 
light and  pleasure  as  he  had  before  been  trembling  with 
apprehension.  The  fear  that  Winnie  would  cast  him 
off  when  she  knew  the  truth  about  the  Crested  Foam 
affair,  that  had  so  distressed  him,  had  given  place  to  a 
deep  satisfaction. 

"It  would  be  dreadful  if  father  should  discover  us  here. 
I  am  really  getting  scared !"  she  continued. 

"I  reckon  that  there  isn't  any  other  place  whatever 
where  we  can  go?"  he  anxiously  asked. 

"No.  But  we  can  stand  and  talk  here  a  little  while. 
Then  I  shall  have  to  hurry  back  into  the  house  before 
my  absence  is  noticed.  One  of  the  servants  I  can  trust 
to  help  me,  but,  I  am  afraid,  not  the  others." 

"And  Elsie  and  Inza?" 
'Yes,  of  course,  all  they  can.     They  have  just  heard 


198  Buck  and  Winnie. 

about  the  trouble  I  have  been  having.  They  thought  1! 
was  sick.  I  don't  know  what  they  can  do." 

"Carry  notes,"  Badger  suggested. 

"Yes.  Oh,  they  will  do  what  they  can!  They  sent 
me  a  key  that  fits  the  door  of  my  room.  And  they  are 
coming  up  to  see  me  to-night  and  to-morrow,  they  said 
in  their  note,  in  spite  of  the  prohibition.  But,  of  course, 
they  will  have  to  be  careful.  Father  is  very  set  when 
he  makes  up  his  mind  to  do  anything,  and  he  is  very 
stern  at  times,  though  he  loves  me.  He  thinks  he  is 
doing  the  thing  that  he  ought  to  do,  and  that  he  is  really 
keeping  me  from  throwing  myself  away " 

"On  a  drunkard!"  said  the  Westerner  bitterly. 

"But  you  don't  drink  now,  Buck!  And  you  never 
were  a  drunkard !" 

"Perhaps  I  oughtn't  to  blame  him  any  whatever!"  he 
grumbled. 

"His  intentions  are  good,  but  it  is  going  to  make  it 
hard  for  us,  for,  of  course,  I  do  not  mean  to  give  you 
up,  if  he  keeps  on  ordering  me  to  do  so  from  now  until 
the  day  of " 

"Our  marriage!" 

She  laughed. 

"I  was  going  to  say  the  day  of  my  death !" 

"I  allow  that  the  day  of  our  marriage  sounds  a  good 
deal  better." 

"I  think  it  does  myself,"  she  admitted,  and  the  Kansan 
took  this  as  an  excuse  to  kiss  her  again. 


Buck  and  Winnie.  199 

"We'll  pull  out  of  this  snarl  in  some  way,"  he  hope- 
fully declared.  "I  don't  know  just  how,  but  we'll  plan 
something." 

"Oh,  I'm  afraid  of  father!"  and  she  shivered. 

"I  don't  see  just  how  we  are  to  get  round  the  old 
man's  objections  myself  at  this  moment,  but  something 
may  come  our  way.  If  we  can  continue  to  meet,  I 
reckon  we  can  plan  something." 

"We  can  meet  to-morrow  evening  right  here." 

"Good.     That's  all  right." 

"And  many  more  nights,  if  we  are  not  discovered. 
I'll  be  as  nice  to  father  as  I  can,  and  perhaps  he  will  not 
dream  I  am  such  a  disobedient  thing,  after  all.  But  I 
do  hate  to  deceive  him !  I  never  did  before  in  my  life, 
and  it  strikes  me  as  something  awful.  He  doesn't  dream 
that  I  would  do  such  a  thing." 

"I  think  he  does,  or  he  wouldn't  have  locked  you  in. 
If  he  had  trusted  you,  there  would  have  been  no  need 
of  that." 

"True,"  she  admitted. 

"And  I  shall  be  a  living  lie,  just  as  you  were,  Buck, 
when  you  made  me  think  I  knew  all  about  that  Crested 
Foam  affair.  So  you  see  I  am  not  much  better  than 
you  were,  if  any.  But  you  will  never  deceive  me  about 
anything  again,  will  you,  Buck?" 

"Never!"  the  Kansan  asserted. 

"And  if  you  should  find  out  who  told  father?" 

"I'll  punch  his  head." 


2OO  Buck  and  Winnie 

"And  get  into  more  trouble  ?    You  mustn't !" 

"I  know  who  it  was.  Don  Pike  did  that,  I'm  certain, 
and  if  I  don't  pay  him  for  it,  I  allow  it  will  be  because 
I  don't  get  a  chance." 

"Don't  get  into  more  trouble !"  she  begged. 

"There  won't  be  any  trouble — for  me!" 

Her  fear  of  discovery  was  so  great  that  she  would  not 
remain  out  long,  but  crept  back  into  the  house  and  up 
to  her  room.  Badger,  however,  lingered,  staring  up  at 
the  house  and  vainly  endeavoring  to  think  of  some  plan 
which  would  enable  them  to  overcome  the  violent  objec- 
tions of  Mr.  Lee. 

"I  allow  I  am  in  a  hole,"  he  grumbled.  "But  as 
long  as  Winnie  has  no  notion  of  throwing  me  over,  I 
shall  not  let  any  coyote  weakness  get  the  better  of  me  I 
'Not  on  your  life !" 

He  was  about  to  leap  the  fence  and  make  his  way  back 
to  the  campus,  when  he  saw  a  man  sneak  into  the  yard 
and  drop  down  behind  some  shrubbery  not  far  from  the 
front  door.  He  could  not  make  out  the  man's  face  and 
form  because  of  the  darkness. 

"Mighty  queer,  that  is!"  thought  the  Westerner,  star- 
ing at  the  spot  where  the  man  had  disappeared.  ''He 
don't  act  as  if  he  intended  to  try  to  rustle  the  ranch.  I 
reckon  I'll  wait  a  bit." 

Badger  had  not  long  to  wait.  Fairfax  Lee  came  down 
the  walk  from  the  street  scarcely  a  minute  later. 

"If  this  wasn't  New  Haven,  in  the  great  and  cultivated 


Buck  and  Winnie.  201 

East,  I  should  say  the  fellow  is  laying  for  Lee  with  a 
gun,  or  a  lariat!" 

As  Lee  came  down  the  path,  the  man  appeared  from 
behind  the  shrubbery,  as  if  he  had  just  returned  from 
a  visit  to  one  of  the  side  doors,  and  placed  himself  in 
front  of  the  politician.  Lee  stopped  in  a  hesitating  way, 
and  it  was  clear  to  Badger  that  he  was  afraid  of  this 
intruder. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  Lee  demanded.  The 
man  advanced  a  step,  with  a  threatening  whine. 

"You  wouldn't  see  me  at  your  office,  and  I  have  come 
here,  Lee.  When  are  you  going  to  get  me  that  appoint- 
ment?" 

Lee  was  one  of  New  Haven's  prominent  politicians. 

"I  have  told  you  that  I  can't  do  anything  for  you, 
Gaston!"  he  declared. 

"But  you  said  before  the  election  that  you'd  git  me  a 
job!" 

"I  said  nothing  of  the  kind !" 

"That's  a  lie!"  the  man  addressed  as  Gaston  fiercely 
asserted.  "You  wouldn't  see  me  at  the  office,  so  I've 
come  here,  and  I  want  justice  done.  You  have  been 
turning  me  away  every  day.  I  was  right  so  long  as  I 
could  hustle  votes  for  you,  and  now  I'm  dirt!" 

"You  are  simply  a  lunatic." 

"And  you  mean  to  put  me  in  an  asylum?"  the  man 
hissed. 


2O2  Buck  and  Winnie. 

"That  is  the  appointment  I'll  get  for  you,  Gaston,  if 
you  trouble  me." 

'Til  kill  you!"  Gaston  snarled,  drawing  a  knife. 
"That's  what  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  do  to  you !" 

"Stand  aside,  sir,  and  let  me  pass!"  Lee  commanded, 
though  his  voice  was  shaky.  "I  shall  have  you  arrested 
if  you " 

For  reply,  the  man  leaped  at  Lee  with  a  snarl  like  that 
of  an  enraged  dog. 

"Loony  as  a  locoed  cowboy!"  thought  Badger.  He 
was  on  the  point  of  rushing  to  Lee's  assistance.  But 
there  was  no  need.  Lee,  who  was  light  on  his  feet, 
avoided  the  rush  and  ran  for  a  side  door,  through  which 
he  escaped  into  the  house,  leaving  Gaston  to  rave  and 
mutter,  and  at  last  retreat  into  the  street  and  hurry 
away. 

Not  until  the  man  had  disappeared  did  the  Westerner 
leave  the  grounds.  Then  he  leaped  the  fence,  and  hur- 
ried back  to  the  campus.  Here  a  large  number  of  stu- 
dents were  rollicking  in  the  somewhat  wild  and  reckless 
student  fashion,  to  their  own  great  delight  and  the 
amusement  of  hundreds  of  spectators. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

FUN     IN     THE    CAMPUS. 

Under  an  elm  in  front  of  Durfee  some  students  were 
gathering  "fruit."  They  began,  by  collecting  it  from 
members  of  the  Chickering  set.  Of  all  the  men  in  the 
college,  the  Chickering  set  were  the  most  unpopular  with 
their  fellow  students.  Their  silliness  and  supercilious- 
ness were  so  unbounded  as  to  be  disgusting  to  all  sensi- 
ble men.  From  the  immaculate  Rupert,  with  his  patent- 
leather  shoes  and  shining  tile,  down  to  the  cowardly 
little  lisper,  Lew  Veazie,  they  were  alike  detested.  Hence 
it  came  about  that  when  Rupert  Chickering  appeared 
under  the  famous  "fruit"  tree  wearing  a  more  than  ordi- 
narily gorgeous  shirt,  the  cry  of  "Fruit!"  was  imme- 
diately raised. 

Rupert  uttered  an  exclamation  of  dismay  and  turned  to 
run.  He  had  heard  that  cry  before.  But  he  only  ha- 
stened what  he  sought  to  evade.  A  foot  outstretched 
for  the  purpose  tripped  him,  and  brought  him  sprawling 
to  the  ground.  Before  he  could  rise,  one  of  the  laughing 
students  was  upon  him. 

"See  here !"  he  exclaimed,  "I'll  have  you  know  that  I 
will  not  submit  to  any  such  outrage!  I  know  you,  and 
I  shall  report  you  to  the  faculty !" 

He  tried  to  fight  oil  the  youth  who  held  him,  but  a 


204  Fun  in  the  Campus. 

dozen  other  men  rushed  to  this  youth's  assistance.  Then 
a  wild-eyed  fellow  produced  a  shining  pocket-knife  and 
slowly  and  exasperatingly  opened  its  sharpest  blade. 

"Help !"  Rupert  squawked. 

The  knife  was  flourished  in  the  air,  and  the  tag  on 
the  lower  end  of  Rupert's  shirt-bosom  was  deftly  ampu- 
tated. 

"Fruit!"  was  again  shouted,  and  a  dash  was  made  for 
Gene  Skelding,  who,  as  usual,  wore  a  rainbow  shirt  that 
outshone  Joseph's  "coat  of  many  colors." 

"Help !"  Skelding  howled. 

But  a  score  of  hands  outstretched  to  grasp  him,  and 
he,  too,  went  down,  screeching  lustily.  Another  knife 
flashed  and  another  shirt-tag  was  neatly  severed. 

Lew  Veazie,  who  had  been  with  Rupert  and  Gene, 
started  to  run,  deeming  discretion  the  better  part  of 
valor.  But  he  took  only  a  step  when  he,  too;  went 
down.  And  again  an  amputating  knife  did  its  work.  As 
soon  as  a  shirt-tag  was  cut  off,  the  amputator,  flourish- 
ing it  on  the  blade  of  his  knife,  like  an  Indian  flaunting 
a  scalp-lock,  made  a  dash  for  the  elm,  where  it  was 
pinned  up  as  a  trophy. 

Then  it  was  found  that  a  "taste"  for  shirt-tags  had 
been  created  by  this  exciting  bit  of  experience,  and  other 
men,  who  had  been  loudly  laughing  and  cheering  over 
the  discomfiture  of  Chickering  and  his  inane  friends, 
found  themselves  suddenly  on  the  ground,  with  wicked- 


Fun  in  the  Campus.  205 

looking  knives  flashing  before  their  eyes,  and  their  shirts 
being  mutilated  by  the  pressure  of  keen  knife-blades. 

In  the  midst  of  this  "fun,"  Buck  Badger  arrived  on  the 
campus  from  his  stolen  interview  with  Winnie  Lee. 
Though  his  face  wore  a  perplexed  expression,  it  had 
lost  its  gloom.  There  might  be  trouble  for  him  in  the 
future,  but  Winnie's  words  had  for  the  present  driven 
the  blackest  of  the  shadows  out  of  his  heart.  The  desire 
uppermost  in  his  mind  just  then  was  to  meet  and  whip 
Donald  Pike.  He  had  sworn  to  himself  that  he  would 
do  that  the  first  thing,  and  he  meant  to  keep  the  oath. 

Nevertheless,  reaching  the  elms  of  the  campus  at  this 
exciting  moment,  he  was  willing  to  cease  temporarily  his 
search  for  Pike  and  view  the  fruit-gathering.  It  would 
be  rare  sport,  provided,  of  course,  that  his  own  shirt  was 
not  forced  to  yield  "fruit." 

To  prevent  this,  and  that  he  might  see  better,  he 
grasped  a  low-hanging  limb  and  swung  up  into  one  of 
the  elms. 

"Fruit!"  was  being  shouted  everywhere,  and  the  in- 
dications were  that  scores  of  trophies  would  adorn  the 
old  elm  the  next  morning,  if  some  stop  was  not  put  to 
the  thing  by  the  college  authorities,  which  was  not  likely. 
"Society  week"  is  expected  to  be  noisy,  and  things  are 
winked  at  which  on  ordinary  occasions  would  bring  rep- 
rimands. 

Another  person  had  invaded  the  branches  of  the  elm 


206  Fun  in  the  Campus. 

but  a  minute  before  the  ascent  of  the  Westerner.  That 
other  person  was  Donald  Pike,  who  looked  down  now 
on  the  man  he  felt  instinctively  to  be  his  mortal  foe  with 
a  little  shiver  of  dread.  More  than  once  Pike  had  re- 
gretted making  that  revelation  to  Fairfax  Lee,  for  .the 
chances  that  discovery  would  come  and  that  Badger 
would  fiercely  summon  him  to  answer,  seemed  very 
great,  when  he  gave  himself  time  to  reflect.  And  he 
feared  Badger. 

All  might  have  gone  well  on  this  evening  with  Pike, 
however,  if  his  fear  of  discovery  had  not  made  him  try 
to  climb  farther  up  the  tree.  The  Kansan  heard  the  low 
scraping  sound,  in  spite  of  the  din  in  the  campus,  and 
glanced  upward,  and  when  he  did  so  he  saw  and  recog- 
nized the  man  he  was  looking  for.  A  calcium-light  was 
sending  its  rays  through  the  higher  branches,  and  Pike's 
white,  scared  face  was  as  plainly  revealed  to  Badger  as 
if  the  two  were  facing  each  other  in  a  lighted  room. 

The  hate  which  Badger  had  been  nursing  swelled  to 
the  point  of  bursting.  He  forgot  the  search  for  "fruit," 
in  which  he  had  been  interested,  seeing  only  the  enemy 
whom  he  had  sworn  to  whip  as  soon  as  they  met. 

As  yet  they  had  not  met;  but  Badger,  blinded  by  his 
intense  anger,  decided  that  the  meeting  should  come 
without  delay,  even  if  the  place  was  a  tree-top;  and  he 
began  to  climb  up  the  trunk  and  boughs  of  the  tree 
toward  Donald.  Pike  looked  about  in  a  despairing 
way.  The  distance  to  the  ground  seemed  dishearten- 


Fun  in  the  Campus.  207 

ingly  great.  Kis  first  impulse,  therefore,  was  to  climb 
still  higher,  and  this  he  began  to  do. 

But,  recollecting  the  tenacity  of  Badger's  purpose  in 
whatever  the  Kansan  was  engaged,  he  felt  sure  that  he 
would  be  pursued  into  the  very  top  of  the  tree  and 
shaken  to  the  ground.  Therefore,,  he  hastily  crawled 
out  over  a  horizontal  limb,  whose  drooping  ends  dipped 
toward  the  earth.  If  driven  to  the  worst,  he  felt  that 
he  could  drop  from  one  of  those  drooping  ends  without 
serious  injury. 

With  a  howl  of  rage,  Badger  climbed  on  after  the 
frightened  youth,  and  pursued  him  out  on  the  horizontal 
limb. 

But  there  were  to  be  other  actors  in  this  little  over- 
head drama.  A  couple  of  cats,  chancing  to  be  in  the 
campus  when  the  students  invaded  it,  had  run  up  this 
identical  elm,  and  had  crouched  in  wild-eyed  fear  on  that 
same  bough,  watching  the  wild  orgies  of  the  students. 
They  had  probably  been  there  for  a  considerable  period, 
not  daring  to  descend  while  that  howling,  dancing  mob 
held  the  grounds.  Perhaps  they  even  fancied  that  those 
yells  and  ear-splitting  squeals  v/ere  directed  against 
them.  They  must  have  thought  so  when  Don  Pike 
crawled  out  on  the  limb  toward  them,  followed  by  Buck 
Badger. 

The  cats  looked  about,  meowing  anxiously.  There 
was  no  other  bough  near  which  they  could  gain  by  a 
leap.  And  as  Pike,  looking  back  and  gasping  with 


2o8  Fun  in  the  Campus. 

fright,  crawled  straight  on  toward  tWem,  the  cat  that  was 
farthest  out  on  the  end  of  the  limb  launched  itself 
through  the  air  in  a  desperate  leap  for  the  ground. 

There  was  no  cleared  space  in  which  it  could  alight, 
and  it  struck  Bink  Stubbs  on  the  top  of  the  head,  jam- 
ming his  hat  down  over  his  eyes  and  hurling  him  back- 
ward. 

"Dog  my  cuc-cuc-cuc-cats !"  stuttered  Joe  Gamp,  look- 
ing up  in  open-mouthed  wonder. 

"The  sky  is  raining  cats !"  whooped  Danny. 

"Somebody  amputate  its  tail!"  yelled  a  student. 

"Cut  off  its  shirt-tab !"  shouted  another. 

Bink  and  Danny,  Gamp  and  all  the  others  of  Merri- 
well's  friends  who  chanced  to  be  grouped  there,  had 
already  suffered  the  amputation  of  their  shirt-tabs,  and 
having  no  further  fear  on  that  point,  were  hilariously 
anxious  that  not  a  shirt-tab  should  be  worn  by  a  Yale 
man  that  night.  The  "fruit"  on  the  tree  at  Durfee  was 
increasing  in  quantity  and  variety  at  a  prodigious  rate. 

"A  dollar  apiece  for  its  ears !"  some  one  else  screeched. 

But  the  cat  was  too  agile  for  the  hands  that  were 
reached  out  to  stop  its  flight.  It  whisked  under  the  legs 
of  the  students  and  was  out  and  away  like  a  shot. 

"Been  up  there  watching  the  performance !"  some  one 
sung  out. 

"Gug-gug-goshf ry !  There's  a  man  up  there!"  Joe 
Gamp  howled,  as  his  eyes  fell  on  Donald  Pike.  "It  wiU 


Fun  in  the  Campus.  209 

be  raining  mum-mum-men,  as  well  as  cuc-cuc-cuc-cats, 
next  thing !  Ahaw !  ahaw !  ahaw !" 

As  his  lips  flew  open  to  their  widest  extent  to  emit 
this  roar,  the  other  cat  sailed  downward  out  of  the  tree 
and  struck  him  squarely  in  the  mouth.  He  tumbled 
backward  with  a  roar,  which,  however,  was  not  at  all 
hilarious,  and  began  to  dig  sputteringly  at  his  tongue  and 
lips,  which  were  liberally  coated  with  cat  hair. 

"More,  cats !"  said  Dismal.  "I'd  as  soon  have  the 
frogs  of  Egypt,  as  to  have  the  trees  showering  down 
cats." 

"How  do  you  like  cat  diet,  Gamp?"  screeched  Bink, 
who  did  not  relish  the  way  he  had  been  laughed  at. 

"Ill  die-it,  if  one  of  'em  hits  me!"  Dismal  solemnly 
asserted. 

"Look  out !"  a  student  warningly  yelled.  "The  man  is 
coming,  too!" 

Everybody  beneath  the  limb  fell  back  out  of  the  way, 
pushing  against  those  behind,  many  being  hurled  down 
and  trodden  on.  Then  Donald  Pike,  sprawled  out  like 
one  of  the  cats,  came  sailing  down  out  of  the  tree.  His 
teeth  were  fairly  chattering.  He  believed  that  Badger 
was  right  at  his  heels,  with  hands  reached  out  to  seize 
him.  Fortunately,  he  was  not  injured  by  the  desperate 
leap. 

"Fruit!"  was  yelled  by  a  dozen  voices,  and  the  throng 
pressed  together  again  to  lay  hold  on  him. 

J3ut  Don  Pike's  terror  gave  him  the  strength  of  a 


210  Fun  in  the  Campus. 

giant.  He  hurled  aside  those  who  sought  to  detain  him, 
and  leaped  through  the  crowd  and  away.  The  next  in- 
stant the  Kansan  dropped  out  of  the  tree,  swinging  for 
a  moment  by  one  of  the  drooping  branches,  to  break  the 
force  of  the  fall,  and  alighting  on  the  ground  with  ease 
and  lightness. 

"Fruit!" 

The  Westerner  could  not  escape,  for  the  students  had 
closed  in  again,  and  he  was  literally  ringed  in. 

"Fruit !  fruit !"  was  yelled  on  all  sides. 

Twenty  men  threw  themselves  on  the  Kansan.  He 
tried  to  hurl  them  off,  and  did  succeed  in  flinging  some  of 
them  aside.  This  enabled  him  to  gain  his  feet. 

"Let  go !"  he  snarled. 

"Fruit!  fruit!"  was  being  chorused. 

Again  the  hands  and  arms  closed  on  him. 

"Let  me  go,  I  say !     I  want  to  overtake  that  fellow !" 

Only  a  few  near  him  understood  his  words.  The  ma- 
jority thought  he  was  merely  showing  a  vigorous  protest 
against  the  threatened  loss  of  his  shirt-tab,  and  they 
had  no  sympathy  with  anything  of  that  kind,  for  they 
had  suffered  the  same  humiliation,  and  were  naturally 
determined  to  inflict  the  same  thing  on  every  student 
they  could  lay  their  hands  on. 

"Let  go !"  Badger  shrieked,  white  with  wrath,  lunging 
with  his  hard  right  fist. 

It  struck  a  student  in  the  face  and  hurled  him  crash- 


Fun  in  the  Campus.  211 

ingly  backward.  But  the  next  moment  the  fist  and  arm 
were  caught  and  held. 

Then  began  a  fierce  struggle  for  the  mastery.  Time 
and  again  the  Westerner,  whose  strength  was  great, 
hurled  off  the  men  who  sought  to  hold  him  down.  Twice 
he  got  on  his  feet,  merely  to  be  tripped  and  thrown  again. 
Not  until  he  was  almost  beaten  and  choked  into  insensi- 
bility were  his  assailants  able  to  rip  open  his  vest. 

Ordinarily,  Badger  wore  a  soft  silk  shirt  which  hadi 
no  tab,  but  on  this  night  he  had  on  a  white  shirt,  whose 
tab  was  amputated  by  a  dexterous  thrust  as  soon  as  the 
vest  was  pulled  open.  Then  he  was  permitted  to  rise 
to  his  feet,  reeling,  sick,  blind  with  rage  and  humiliation 
and  a  sense  of  baffled  hate. 

But  his  chief  thought  still  was  of  Donald  Pike. 

"Which  way  did  he  go?"  he  panted,  as  soon  as  he 
could  get  his  breath. 

"Well,  your  High-Muchness,  the  cats  scattered  and 
the  man  made  himself  scarce !"  was  the  scoffing  answer, 
given  by  the  student  who  had  felt  the  terrible  force  of 
Badger's  fist.  "Perhaps  there  is  another  man  up  in  the 
elm  who  can  tell  you!" 

Badger  did  not  wait  for  further  nagging,  and,  as  no 
hands  were  now  extended  to  oppose  him,  he  made  as 
hasty  an  exit  as  he  could  from  the  midst  of  the  shout- 
ing, laughing,  howling  throng. 

"Heavens!"  he  thought.     "I  hope  that  neither  Inza, 


212  Fun  in  the  Campus. 

nor  Elsie,  nor  any  of  my  friends,  saw  that  from  the 
dormitory  windows !" 

Even  in  the  midst  of  his  rage  against  Pike,  Badger 
was  cut  to  the  quick  by  this  thought,  for  he  was  filled 
with  a  foolish  pride. 

"I'll  thump  Pike  a  few  extra  for  that !"  he  snarled,  as 
he  got  out  of  the  crowd.  His  pulse  was  at  fever-heat, 
and  his  face  as  hot  as  flame.  He  did  not  feel  the  bruises 
and  blows  which  had  been  showered  on  him. 

"I  reckon  I'll  not  get  close  to  him  again  for  a  week !" 
he  grumbled.  "Why  couldn't  those  ruffians  attend  to 
their  own  affairs  and  let  me  attend  to  mine?  I  allow 
that  it  was  none  of  their  business  whatever!  This  is 
my  trail,  and  I  wasn't  interfering  none  with  their  range. 
Confound  the  luck !  But  when  I  do  meet  him  I'll  make 
him  pay  for  it !" 

But  the  Westerner  was  mistaken  in  one  portion  of  his 
surmise.  He  met  Pike,  or  rather  ran  against  him,  at 
the  first  building  he  turned. 

Donald  had  ventured  back  to  see  what  had  happened 
to  his  pursuer,  and  was  looking  at  the  shouting  tumult 
in  the  campus,  and  did  not  observe  Badger,  who  came 
along  the  walk  close  to  the  wall.  The  Kansan  recog- 
nized Pike  first,  and  leaped  at  him  with  a  snarl  like  that 
of  an  enraged  panther,  and  as  he  leaped  he  struck  a  blind- 
ing blow. 

It  knocked  Donald  backward,  but  it  did  not  fall  fairly 


Fun  in  the  Campus.  213 

enough  to  inflict  serious  injury.  The  next  moment  Bad- 
ger was  on  him,  and  had  him  by  the  throat. 

"By  heavens !  I've  a  notion  to  kill  you  right  here !"  he 
hissed,  his  fingers  closing  on  Pike's  throat. 

"Don't !"  Pike  pleaded,  gasping  out  the  appeal. 

"You  told  Fairfax  Lee  that  I  was  drunk  when  I  went 
on  the  Crested  Foam.  You  scoundrel!  You  ruffian! 
You  sneaking  coyote!" 

His  fingers  tightened  with  every  exclamation. 

"Don't  kill  me !"  Pike  begged  wheezingly.  "I'll  go  to 
him  and  take  it  all  back !" 

"Then  you  did  tell  him  ?  I  allow  I  ought  to  kick  you 
clean  out  of  your  hide,  you  onery  varmint!" 

There  was  no  answer,  and  Donald  Pike,  apparently 
ceasing  to  breathe,  fell  back  as  limp  as  a  rag. 

A  bit  of  reason  began  to  glimmer  into  the  brain  of 
the  Westerner.  Though  he  had  asserted  that  he  would 
almost  kill  Pike,  he  did  not  really  intend  to  do  anything 
of  the  kind.  He  merely  meant  to  inflict  a  punishment 
which  should  be  in  a  measure  commensurate  with  the 
wrong  which  Pike  had  committed  against  him.  But 
the  Kansan's  great  rage,  combined  with  his  humiliating 
experience  in  the  campus,  which  had  still  further  in- 
flamed him,  had  driven  him  to  more  than  ordinary  reck- 
lessness. He  had  been  fairly  insane.  The  fire  began  to 
go  out  of  Badger's  eyes  when  Pike  did  not  stir  and 
seemed  not  to  breathe. 

"I  reckon  I  squeezed  a  bit  too  hard!"  Badger  rarot- 


214  Fun  in  the  Campus. 

tered,  regarding  the  unconscious  youth  with  some  degree 
of  anxiety.  "Well,  I  was  wild  enough  to  choke  his  heart 
out!" 

He  stooped  over  Pike  and  saw  the  livid  finger-marks 
on  the  throat.  Still  Pike  did  not  stir,  and  the  West- 
erner's anxiety  correspondingly  grew.  He  put  a  hand 
on  Pike's  left  breast,  and  failed  to  locate  the  heart-beats. 
At  last,  after  an  alarming  interval,  Pike  gasped,  to  Bad- 
ger's intense  relief. 

"I  allow  I'd  better  let  it  go  at  this,"  he  reflected.  "I 
don't  want  to  kill  the  skunk,  though  if  any  man  what- 
ever deserved  to  be  murdered,  he  does.  But  I  don't 
want  anything  of  that  kind  against  me.  As  Merry  has 
told  me,  I've  got  an  awful  temper  when  it  gets  started. 
I  shall  have  to  watch  myself  against  that,  same  as  against 
red-eye !" 

Pike  gasped  again,  and  then  his  breathing  came  at  in- 
creasingly frequent  intervals.  The  students  were  wildly 
howling  in  and  around  the  campus,  but  Badger  scarcely 
heard  them.  He  was  thinking  only  of  Pike. 

"This  may  keep  him  in  his  room  a  few  days,"  he  mut- 
tered. 

"If  it  does  no  more  than  that,  I  don't  care.  He  de- 
served that  much.  But  he's  got  to  keep  clear  of  me,  or 
I  can't  be  responsible  for  the  consequences.  I'll  tell  him 
so  as  soon  as  he  comes  to  himself  and  knows  what  has 
happened." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A     CRUSHING     BLOW. 

Buck  Badger  stared  at  a  letter  in  a  familiar  hand- 
writing which  had  come  to  his  room  in  the  afternoon 
mail.  He  had  delivered  to  Donald  Pike  that  threatening 
talk  the  night  before,  when  Pike  came  back  to  the  land 
of  sentient  things  after  that  awful  choking. 

The  infliction  of  this  punishment  on  Pike,  and  the  feel- 
ing that  Winnie  would  stand  by  him  in  spite  of  every- 
thing, had  so  satisfied  the  Westerner  that  he  had  been  in 
an  uncommonly  comfortable  frame  of  mind,  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  the  powerful  opposition  of  Fairfax  Lee  was 
yet  to  be  overcome.  With  Winnie  true,  and  time  and 
youth  in  their  favor,  there  seemed  no  good  reason  why 
he  should  be  in  the  dumps. 

But  the  letter  at  which  he  now  gazed  with  starting 
eyes  and  anguished  face!  It  was  from  Winnie  herself, 
and  what  it  said  was  enough  to  make  the  Kansan's  brain 
reel: 

"MR.  BUCK  BADGER:  Father  knows  that  we  met  last 
night,  and  he  is  much  displeased,  as  he  has  a  right  to 
be.  I  am  very  sorry  I  said  to  you  the  things  I  did,  for 
we  can  never  be  anything  more  to  each  other.  I  have 
had  time  to  think  more  clearly  since  I  saw  you,  and  this 
is  my  decision.  It  will  do  no  good  to  talk  it  over, 


216  A  Crushing  Blow. 

for  this  is  final.  Therefore,  if  you  are  a  gentleman,  you 
will  not  try  to  see  me  again.  I  return  to  you  by  express 
your  ring  and  the  things  you  have  given  me. 

"WINNIE  LEE." 

"I  can't  understand  it!"  he  gasped,  as  he  recalled  her 
words  of  the  evening  before.  "Yet  she  wrote  it.  There 
isn't  any  doubt  whatever  of  that.  I  wish  there  were,  but 
I  know  that  handwriting  too  well." 

He  read  it  over  again  and  again,  as  if  searching  out 
some  other  meaning.  It  seemed  so  impossible.  Yet 
there  it  was.  He  got  up  and  began  to  pace  round  the 
room,  stopping  almost  every  time  he  passed  the  table  to 
take  another  look  at  the  letter. 

"Thrown  over!"  he  groaned.  "And  after  all  we've 
been  to  each  other!  I  allow  she  couldn't  stand  up 
against  her  father.  How  in  thunder  did  he  find  out  that 
we  met  last  night?  Some  onery,  spying  Piute  of  a 
servant,  I  reckon.  Well,  I  seem  to  be  rounded  up  now, 
and  Winnie's  given  me  the  branding-iron  with  her  own 
white  hand." 

He  mopped  the  sweat  from  his  face. 

"I  won't  accept  it!  That's  whatever!  She  says  that 
if  I'm  a  gentleman,  I'll  not  try  to  see  her  again.  Glad  I 
ain't  a  gentleman !  Glad  I'm  a  man — and  I  allow  a 
man  is  a  good  deal  bigger  than  a  gentleman!  I  s'pose 
a  gentleman  would  sit  down  and  twiddle  his  fingers,  and 
do  nothing.  Well,  I  ain't  built  that  way !  Not  on  your 
life!  I'm  going  to  see  her  again,  whether  she  wants 


A  Crushing  Blow.  217 

to  see  me  or  not.  I'll  see  her,  if  I  have  to  fight  my 
way  into  that  house !  That's  whatever !" 

He  gave  his  breast  a  thump,  as  if  he  fancied  he  was 
striking  at  an  enemy.  His  face  was  red  and  his  neck 
veins  stood  out  like  cords.  His  heavy  shoulders  were 
thrown  back,  and  his  broad  white  teeth  gleamed  in  a 
determined  fashion. 

"I'll  find  out  just  why  she  changed  her  mind  so  sud- 
denly. Of  course,  it  was  her  father's  work.  He  has 
kept  her  under  his  thumb  so  long  that  she  has  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  she  has  to  mind  him  in  this,  too !  He 
thinks  I'm  not  good  enough  for  her,  I  allow!  Well,  I 
ain't — no  man  on  earth  is  good  enough  for  her — but  I'm 
just  as  good  as  Fairfax  Lee,  any  day  in  the  week! 
Hanged  if  I  don't  tell  him  so,  too! 

"Yes,  I'll  walk  into  his  office,  if  I  have  to  knock  over 
that  clerk  to  do  it,  and  I'll  tell  him  what  I  think  of 
him,  if  I'm  arrested  for  it  next  minute.  In  this  beastly 
East,  instead  of  meeting  a  man  and  fighting  him,  the 
first  thing  a  fellow  thinks  of,  if  he  has  a  word  with  an- 
other, is  to  call  in  the  police.  But  I'm  not  afraid  of  the 
New  Haven  police!" 

Badger's  heart  seethed  like  a  volcano. 

"See  her!  Well,  I  reckon!  I'll  see  her  if  I  die  for 
it !  I'll  see  her,  even  if  she  refuses  to  speak  to  me !  I'm 
going  to  find  out  what's  at  the  bottom  of  this !" 

While  the  Westerner  was  thus  storming,  an  express- 
man came  with  the  little  package  containing  the  ring  and 


218  A  Crushing  Blow. 

the  trinkets  which  Badger  had  given  to  Winnie.  It  con- 
tained no  note,  but  the  address  was  in  Winnie's  hand- 
writing. 

Badger  tore  the  package  open  almost  before  the  ex- 
pressman was  out  of  the  room.  A  lump  came  into  his 
throat  as  he  looked  at  the  ring.  He  remembered  so  dis- 
tinctly the  time  he  gave  it  to  her  and  all  the  words  then 
said.  It  seemed  impossible  that  she  had  returned  it  now 
in  this  curt  manner. 

"I'll  ask  her  to  take  it  back!"  he  muttered.  He 
dropped  the  ring  into  a  pocket  of  the  suit  he  was  wearing, 
that  he  might  be  sure  to  have  it  with  him  when  he  met 
her — for  that  he  would  meet  her  in  some  way  or  other 
he  was  firmly  resolved. 

"Her  father  has  driven  her  into  this.  It's  not  her 
wish,  I  know.  But  she  is  so  good  and  dutiful  that  she 
may  stick  by  this  decision,  to  please  him.  I  allow  that 
there  is  where  the  trouble  is  going  to  come.  But  I  won't 
give  her  up !  Not  unless  she  tells  me  positively  with  her 
own  lips  that  everything  is  ended." 

Badger  now  did  something  which  he  would  never  have 
dreamed  of  doing  a  short  time  before.  Even  the  thought 
of  it  would  have  been  greeted  with  scorn.  He  carefully 
put  the  letter  in  an  inner  pocket,  put  away  the  trinkets 
which  Winnie  had  returned,  and  set  out  to  find  Frank 
Merriwell.  The  act  did  not  even  strike  him  as  incon- 
gruous. 

"Inza  and  Elsie  will  do  anything  for  Merriwell!    He 


A  Crushing  Blow.  219 

can  go  in  and  out  of  Lee's  house  as  he  wants  to.  I  allow 
he  will  be  glad  to  help  me  in  this  thing,  if  he  can.  The 
trail  looks  to  be  so  confoundedly  tangled  that  a  bit  of 
help  in  ciphering  it  out  will  be  mighty  welcome  just 
now!" 

He  scowled  as  he  crossed  the  campus  and  remembered 
the  unpleasant  experience  of  the  previous  night.  The 
tree  in  front  of  Durfee  still  bore  a  large  quantity  of 
"fruit."  The  tab  of  Badger's  shirt  was  there. 

"Come  over  here  and  pick  out  your  property !"  shouted 
a  student  who  was  standing  in  a  group  near  the  tree. 

Badger  strode  on  without  a  word,  for  he  was  in  no 
humor  for  pleasantries. 

"Fruit !"  squealed  Danny  Griswold. 

"Where  are  you  going,  my  pretty  maid  ?"  Bink  Stubbs 
sang  from  his  perch  on  the  fence. 

"Going  to  hunt  up  those  cats,"  said  the  Westerner, 
with  sarcastic  scorn.  "I  hear  their  kittens  squawling 
for  them !" 

Danny  fell  over  against  Bink. 

"A  joke  from  Badger!"  he  murmured.  "Somebody 
fan  me!" 

"I'll  fan  you!"  grunted  Bink,  who  was  not  pleased 
with  the  Kansan's  retort,  pushing  Danny  roughly  from 
him. 

"Do !"  begged  Danny.  "That  took  my  breath.  What 
will  happen  next?" 


220  A  Crushing  Blow. 

Badger  swung  on  at  a  swift,  nervous  pace,  and 
mounted  to  Frank's  room. 

"Come  in !"  Frank  sung  out,  as  the  Kansan's  knuckles 
hammered  on  the  door. 

He  was  rather  surprised  to  see  Badger  at  that  hour. 
But  he  put  away  the  book  he  had  been  studying,  and 
pushed  out  a  chair. 

"Take   a   seat!"   he   invited. 

"I  reckon  you'll  think  it's  mighty  funny  that  I  should 
come  to  you  for  advice  and  help?" 

"Why,  no!  It's  a  way  my  friends  have.  And  they 
know  that  I  am  always  ready  to  do  whatever  I  can  for 
them." 

"Well,  it's  about  Winnie!"  said  Badger  bluntly. 
Whereupon,  in  a  few  words,  he  told  his  story. 

"That  rather  stumps  me,  Badger,"  Frank  admitted. 
"I  think,  though,  that  the  straight  way  is  the  best.  If 
you're  willing,  I  will  see  Lee  in  your  behalf.  I  shall 
have  to  admit  to  him  that  you  were  intoxicated  at  that 
time,  but  I'll  try  to  make  him  see  that  you  are  pretty 
straight  goods,  for  all  of  that.  Perhaps  a  few  words 
from  one  who  knows  you  will  be  helpful." 

"If  you  will,  Merry,  I  can't  ever  thank  you  enough.  It 
will  be  about  as  big  a  favor,  I  allow,  as  one  man  ever  did 
for  another,  and  I  sha'n't  forget  it." 

Merriwell  looked  at  his  watch. 

"I  can't  go  to  his  office  this  afternoon,  but  I'll  see 
him  at  his  house  to-night.  I  may  be  late  getting  there, 


A  Crushing  Blow.  221 

but  I'll  try  to  time  it  to  be  there  when  he  gets  home  from 
his  club." 

Badger  went  away  as  if  walking  on  air.  He  could 
hardly  think  of  anything  else  throughout  the  remainder 
of  the  day,  and  night  found  him  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
Lee  home,  even  though  he  had  a  feeling  that  Merri- 
well  would  prefer  he  should  keep  away  from  there  until 
the  result  of  the  promised  interview  was  known. 

"I  wish  Merry  would  hurry,"  he  thought,  as  he  finally 
advanced  to  the  fence,  drawn  there  by  his  intense  desire 
to  be  near  to  Winnie.  "I'll  speak  to  him  before  he  goes 
in,  and  ask  him  to  come  right  out  as  soon  as  possible 
with  the  news." 

As  he  stood  thus  by  the  fence,  a  light  step  sounded, 
and,  looking  over,  he  recognized  in  the  dim  light  the 
form  of  Winnie  Lee.  He  was  by  her  side  at  a  bound. 

"You  must  not  stand  by  that  note!"  he  pleadingly  be- 
gan. "I  allow  that  you  will  see,  when  you  think  01  it, 
that  it  isn't  right  by  me !" 

He  did  not  attempt  to  touch  her  or  stoop  toward  her. 
She  had,  in  writing  that  letter,  forbidden  familiarities. 
Their  relations  toward  each  other  were  unchanged.  He 
remembered  the  ring  in  his  pocket. 

"Buck !  you  silly  fellow !  Don't  you  know  that  I  didn't 
mean  to  cast  you  off?" 

"But  the  note?"  he  gasped.  "It  was  in  your  hand- 
writing? And  the  ring?  You  sent  back  the  ring!" 

"Yes,  I  wrote  the  letter  because  father  commanded  me 


222  A  Crushing  Blow. 

to  write  it,  and  I  sent  back  the  ring  for  the  same  rea- 
son. You  ought  to  have  known  that!" 

The  change  in  his  feelings  was  so  great  and  sudden 
that  he  could  hardly  repress  a  shout. 

"I  reckon  I'm  the  biggest  idiot  unhung!"  he  con- 
fessed, as  he  took  her  in  his  arms.  "But  when  I  saw  that 
the  writing  was  yours,  I  fancied  your  father  had  by 
threats,  or  in  some  way,  induced  you  to  change  your 
mind,  and  that  you  really  thought,  in  duty  to  him,  you 
ought  not  to  see  me  any  more.  Say,  I'm  too  happy  to 
think !  I'm " 

"You  are  just  a  silly  fellow!" 

"You  never  shot  straighter!     I'm  a  roaring  idiot!" 

He  kissed  her  and  held  her  face  toward  the  light  in  a 
rather  vain  effort  to  see  its  outline. 

"I've  been  crazier  since  I  got  that  note  than  any  locoed 
cowboy  that  ever  tore  up  the  ranges.  I've  simply  been 
wild!" 

"I  am  very  sorry,  Buck.  Yet  I  think  I  must  have 
suffered  as  much.  Last  night  father  obtained  from  me 
a  confession  that  I  had  met  you  in  the  grounds  here. 
He  asked  me  if  I  had  met  you,  and  my  confused  looks 
made  my  denials  useless.  Then  he  ordered  me  to  write 
that  note  and  to  send  back  the  ring.  He  mailed  them 
himself.  And  he  made  me  promise  that  I  wouldn't  meet 
you  again.  But  when  I  made  it,  I  realized  that  I  couldn't 
keep  it." 

''You're  an  angel!" 


A  Crushing  Blow.  22% 

"I  never  heard  that  angels  were  disobedient." 

"Some  of  them." 

"And  they  were  punished  for  it.  Oh,  Buck,  I  hope 
we  will  never  regret  this — that  there  will  be  no  punish- 
ment for  this!" 

"There  won't  be!"  he  grimly  declared. 

"Father  is  gone,"  she  said.     "Out  of  the  city!" 

"And  I  wanted  Merry  to  see  him  here  this  evening," 
in  a  tone  of  regret.  "Merry  is  to  have  a  talk  with  him 
and  try  to  get  him  to  see  that  I  am  not  such  a  soaking 
Piute  as  I've  been  painted!" 

"I'm  sorry,  too,  Buck — though  I  was  glad." 

"Glad?" 

"I  intended  to  ask  you  into  the  house.  Is  it  veiy 
wrong  ?" 

"I  don't  think  so !"  he  whispered,  joy  and  triumph  in 
his  voice.  "Where  you  lead  I  will  follow.  By  and  by 
I  hooe  we  will  walk  abreast." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

INTO  A  TRAP. 

When  Buck  and  Winnie  walked  into  the  house,  tHey 
walked  into  a  trap,  though  the  laying  of  a  trap  for  them 
was  not  contemplated  by  Mr.  Lee. 

Encountering  none  of  the  servants,  Winnie  conducted 
Badger  into  the  parlor. 

"Merriwell  will  be  here  soon,  I  allow." 

"We're  not  afraid  of  Merriwell !" 

"Only  thinking  that  you  and  I  want  to  have  this  meet- 
ing all  to  ourselves.  Then  the  servant  that  shows  Merri- 
well up,  if  one  does,  may  see  us,  and  I  calculate  that  I 
ain't  hankering  to  meet  up  with  any  of  your  servants  on 
this  trip.  None  whatever!" 

But  Winnie  was  not  disturbed. 

"Father  is  going  over  to  Hartford  to-night  on  busi- 
ness," she  laughed,  laying  aside  the  scarf  and  jacket.  "I 
heard  him  say  to  the  cook  that  he  wouldn't  return  be- 
fore to-morrow." 

There  was  a  certain  exultant  defiance  in  Badger's 
bearing  that  made  him,  in  spite  of  his  bulky,  heavy 
shoulders  and  modern  clothing,  somewhat  resemble  some 
ancient  knight  ready  to  do  battle  for  his  "ladye  fair." 
Winnie  Lee  observed  it,  and  was  pleased.  The  West- 
erner's devotion  was  so  true  that  she  felt  rather  proud  ol 


Into  a  Trap.  225 

it  And,  indeed,  Badger,  in  spite  of  his  many  faults, 
failings,  and  weaknesses,  had  some  admirable  traits  of 
character. 

All  at  once  Winnie  heard  footsteps  approaching  the 
door  of  the  parlor.  She  thought  the  steps  were  those  of 
a  servant,  and  blamed  herself  for  not  closing  the  door. 
Then  a  familiar  form  appeared  in  the  doorway,  and  her 
cheeks  grew  white.  Buck  Badger  looked  up  at  the  same 
moment,  and  his  dark  face  flushed. 

Fairfax  Lee  had  changed  his  mind  about  going  to 
Hartford!  He  had  returned  home,  let  himself  into  the 
house,  and  walked  up-stairs.  Seeing  the  light  in  the 
parlor,  he  had  approached  the  door. 

He  was  as  much  astonished  as  the  lovers.  For  a  mo- 
ment not  a  word  was  spoken.  Winnie  seemed  about  to 
swoon,  and  Badger  put  a  hand  on  her  shoulder,  as  if  to 
support  her.  Then  Mr.  Lee  broke  the  silence,  and 
stepped  into  the  room. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  disobedience  ?"  he  sternly 
demanded,  speaking  to  Winnie. 

She  staggered  to  her  feet,  trembling  before  him. 
Badger  sprang  up,  erect  and  defiant. 

"I  thought  you  promised  me  that  you  would  never 
meet  him  again?" 

She  did  not  answer. 

He  turned  with  flashing  eyes  on  the  Westerner. 

'And  I  forbade  you  the  house,  sir!" 

Badger  wanted  to  take  him  by  the  throat. 


226  Into  a  Trap. 

"See  here,  Mr.  Lee!"  he  said,  in  a  voice  that  de- 
manded a  hearing.  "I  know  you  told  me  that  I  wasn't 
welcome  in  this  house,  and  I  reckon  I  know  full  well  that 
I  am  not  welcome.  But  that's  no  sign  that  I  am  going 
to  stay  out  of  it,  as  long  as  it  shelters  your  daughter !" 

"Winnie,  you  will  go  to  your  room !" 

He  advanced  toward  her,  and  she  drew  away  from 
Badger.  But  she  did  not  go  toward  the  door.  Her 
father  stepped  to  her  side. 

"There  is  the  door!"  Lee  commanded,  addressing  the 
Kansan. 

"I  see  it,"  said  Badger.  "You  don't  need  to  show  it 
to  me !" 

"Will  you  go  out  of  it?    Will  you  leave  this  house?" 
Fairfax  Lee  was  panting  with  rage.     "Get  out  of  this 
room!"  he  cried. 

Badger  straightened  his  thick  shoulders,  and  his  broad, 
white  teeth  gleamed  unpleasantly. 

"Mr.  Lee,  you  are  Winnie's  father,  and  because  of 
that  I  shall  pay  no  attention  to  your  insults;  but  I  tell 
you  now,  that  you  may  understand  it,  that  I  love  your 
daughter  and  intend  to  marry  her!" 

"By  heavens,  you  never  shall!" 

"It  may  be  a  long  trail,  Mr.  Lee,  but  there  will  be  a 
home-coming  at  the  end  of  it.  I  shall  see  her  as  often  as 
I  can,  and  I  shall  write  to  her  when  I  can,  and  I  shalJ 
marry  her !  I  have  promised  to,  and  I'll  do  it '" 


Into  a  Trap.  227 

"Never  speak  to  my  daughter  again!"  Mr.  Lee  thun- 
dered, pointing  Badger  to  the  door. 

"Good  night,  Winnie,"  said  the  Kansan,  as  he  passed 
out.  "There  will  be  better  days  by  and  by." 

Then  he  fairly  reeled  down  the  stairway,  sick  and  giddy 
and  almost  gasping,  yet  shaking  with  rage  against  Fair- 
fax Lee. 

Badger  waited  in  the  vicinity  of  the  house  in  a  fever  of 
impatience  until  Merriwell  appeared.  Though  a  more 
inauspicious  time,  seemingly,  could  not  have  been  found, 
he  had  strong  confidence  in  Frank's  ability  to  aid  him. 
It  was  a  feeling  which  was  invariably  produced  in  the 
hearts  of  all. 

He  met  Merriwell  at  some  distance  from  the  Lee  resi- 
dence, and  drew  him  away  for  a  talk,  in  which  he  ac- 
quainted him  with  what  had  taken  place.  Then  Frank 
went  on  into  the  house,  and  the  Westerner  recom- 
menced his  vigil. 

The  interview  which  shortly  followed  between  Frank 
and  Mr.  Lee  was  of  an  interesting  and  important  char- 
acter. Fortunately,  Fairfax  Lee  had  a  very  high  opinion 
of  Frank  Merriwell.  Otherwise  he  would  not  have 
heard  him  at  all  in  behalf  of  Badger.  Even  as  it  was,  he 
at  first  listened  with  nervous  impatience,  unwilling  to 
believe  that  anything  could  be  presented  in  the  West- 
erner's behalf. 

Merriwell  went  over  the  whole  ground  with  great 
candor  and  frankness.  He  admitted  that  Badger  was  in- 


228  Into  a  Trap. 

toxicated  when  lured  aboard  the  Crested  Foam.  But  he 
asserted  his  belief  that  the  Kansan  was  all  right  at 
heart.  He  laid  stress  also  on  the  fact,  which  was  now 
clearly  understood  by  Fairfax  Lee,  that  Winnie  loved  the 
Kansan ;  and  he  insisted  that  the  latter  had  no  real  taste 
for  liquor,  but  was  driven  into  his  debauch  by  a  fit  of 
jealousy. 

"I  will  think  over  this,"  Lee  promised.  "As  you  say, 
I  have  no  desire  to  be  unjust;  still  less  do  I  wish  to  be 
harsh  beyond  what  is  necessary.  I  once  thought  well  of 
•Badger.  I  can't  say  more  now.  His  actions  have  seemed 
to  me  very  low  and  very  dishonorable." 

The  long  interview  ended  with  this.  But  Merriwell, 
not  realizing  that  Badger  was  still  waiting  for  him  in 
wild  anxiety,  made  a  call  on  Inza  and  Elsie,  which  was  so 
pleasant  that  it  was  much  more  protracted  than  he  had 
intended  it  should  be,  and  the  hour  grew  late. 

In  the  meantime,  other  things  were  hurrying  events 
to  a  climax.  Fairfax  Lee  had  hastened  home  that  night 
in  fear  of  his  life.  Bill  Gaston,  once  a  useful  political 
worker,  who  had  been  driven  insane  by  his  failure  to 
secure  an  appointment  he  craved,  and  who  the  day  be- 
fore had  been  locked  up  for  threatening  Lee's  life,  had 
escaped  and  was  at  large.  That  the  man  was  crazy  there 
could  be  no  doubt,  and  that  he  would  shoot  Lee  on  sight 
seemed  just  as  certain. 

Buck  Badger,  wandering  like  a  restless  spirit  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  house,  saw  a  man  leap  the  fence  and 


Into  a  Trap.  229 

sneak  toward  a  rear  entrance.  The  man's  general  ap- 
pearance and  crouching  attitude  were  like  those  of  the 
crazed  office-seeker  whom  Buck  had  once  seen  threaten- 
ing Lee  in  that  very  place. 

"After  Lee  again!"  was  Badger's  conclusion.  "I 
reckon  I'd  better  camp  on  his  trail.  He  said  he  would 
kill  Lee,  and  that  must  be  what  he  is  up  to !" 

Thereupon,  Badger  also  leaped  the  fence  and  slipped 
through  the  shadows  in  the  direction  taken  by  the  man 
he  supposed  to  be  Gaston. 

"Eh!  what  does  that  mean?" 

Badger  stopped  stock-still.  He  saw  several  men  be- 
neath a  window,  which  they  had  forced  open.  One  man 
was  being  helped  through. 

"Can't  be  a  band  of  assassins,  I  allow?  More  likely  a 
lot  of  burglars  trying  to  crack  the  crib." 

The  Westerner  was  right  in  his  guess.  These  were  not 
friends  of  Bill  Gaston  bent  on  assassination,  but  house- 
breakers, whose  cupidity  had  been  aroused  by  the  fact, 
which  had  chanced  to  come  to  their  knowledge,  that  a 
diamond  brooch  worth  ten  thousand  dollars  had  recently 
been  taken  from  the  Lee  residence.  A  crib  which  held 
such  valuables  seemed  to  them  a  good  one  to  rip  open, 
and  they  had  obtained  information  that  Fairfax  Lee  was 
expected  to  be  away  from  home  that  night.  They  had 
found  that  most  of  the  servants  were  out,  too,  and  because 
of  this  it  appeared  safer  to  make  the  raid  at  an  early  hour, 
before  the  servants  returned. 


230  Into  a  Trap. 

Badger  stood  in  indecision  in  the  shadows,  wondering 
what  course  he  ought  to  pursue.  Before  he  could  make 
up  his  mind,  the  first  burglar  had  disappeared,  and  a 
second  was  being  helped  through  the  window.  Two  of 
the  burglars — there  were  four  or  five  of  them,  as  Badger 
could  see — were  to  wait  outside,  while  their  pals  on  the 
inside  made  their  search  for  valuables. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  cry  for  help  from  within  the 
house,  followed  by  the  sounds  of  a  struggle.  Fairfax 
Lee,  unable  to  sleep  and  wandering  as  restlessly  about 
within  the  house  as  the  Westerner  had  upon  the  outside, 
had  come  unexpectedly  upon  the  first  burglar  at  the 
upper  landing  of  the  rear  stairway.  The  burglar  looked 
so  marvelously  like  the  crazy  office-hunter,  Bill  Gaston, 
that  Lee  believed  him  to  be  Gaston,  and  that  Gaston  had 
invaded  the  house  for  purposes  of  assassination. 

Though  Lee  had  dreaded  a  meeting  with  Gaston,  and 
would  have  gone  far  out  of  his  way  to  avoid  anything 
of  the  kind,  he  was  by  no  means  a  coward.  He  expected 
a  shot  from  Gaston's  pistol,  and  to  prevent  this,  he  hurled 
himself  on  the  burglar  with  a  suddenness  and  boldness 
that  took  the  latter  by  surprise. 

The  cry  for  help  did  not  come  from  the  lips  of  Fairfax 
Lee,  but  from  those  of  the  burglar.  Badger,  however, 
fancied  that  the  call  had  come  from  Lee.  Without  wait- 
ing to  consider  the  danger,  or  to  ask  himself  how  he  was 
to  account  for  his  presence  in  the  grounds  and  in  the 
house,  Buck  Badger  ran  toward  the  open  window. 


Into  a  Trap.  231 

As  he  did  so,  he  saw  two  of  the  other  burglars  leap 
through.  They  were  going  to  the  assistance  of  their 
pal.  Then  a  shot  sounded. 

Badger  crossed  the  intervening  distance  at  a  sprinting 
pace,  and  found  himself  suddenly  confronted  by  the  bur- 
glar who  was  still  on  guard  at  the  window.  A  pistol 
gleamed  in  the  dim  light.  Badger  knocked  it  aside, 
struck  the  man  a  blow  that  would  have  felled  an  ox,  and 
went  through  the  window  with  a  flying  leap  that  took 
him  to  the  foot  of  the  stairway. 

He  saw  the  two  burglars  on  the  stairs  near  the  top. 
One  held  a  dark-lantern  and  the  other  a  heavy  jimmy. 
Above,  the  sounds  of  the  fight  continued,  and  the  bur- 
glar attacked  by  Lee  was  still  bawling  for  help. 

Fairfax  Lee  felt  that  he  was  fighting  for  his  life,  and 
he  still  believed  that  he  was  fighting  Bill  Gaston.  He 
did  not  hear  the  burglars  on  the  stairs.  He  was  trying 
to  get  the  supposed  Bill  Gaston  by  the  throat  and  choke 
him  into  subjection.  The  burglar's  shot,  fired  almost 
pointblank  at  Lee,  had  done  him  no  injury,  and  now  the 
weapon  was  on  the  floor. 

"Help!"  bellowed  the  burglar. 

He  got  his  throat  free,  but  he  could  not  throw  off  those 
clutching  hands.  Visions  of  striped  clothing  and  prison 
officials  loomed  before  him,  for  he  had  once  done  time. 
His  anxious  ears  heard  what  Lee  did  not — the  calls  of 
the  ruffians  who  were  hurrying  to  his  assistance — and  he 
fought  like  a  tiger. 


232  Into  a  Trap. 

Buck  Badger  went  up  the  stairway  in  quick  leaps.  If 
the  burglars  heard  him,  they  must  have  fancied  he  was 
the  guard  left  at  the  window,  for  they  did  not  look  round. 
But  before  the  Kansan  could  reach  the  upper  landing, 
the  three  scoundrels  were  on  Lee. 

"Clip  him  on  der  head !"  one  of  them  growled.  "Don't 
use  yer  barker — too  much  noise!  Hit  him  wid  der 
jimmy.  All  der  cops  in  New  Haven  will  be  in  dis  crib  in 
a  minute!" 

Fairfax  Lee  was  still  putting  up  a  stiff  fight,  and  the 
jimmy  flashed  in  the  air.  Before  it  could  descend,  Buck 
Badger  flung  himself  into  the  midst  of  them,  with  the 
impetuous  leap  of  a  mountain-lion.  The  man  with  the 
uplifted  jimmy  went  down  before  a  blow  from  the  Kan- 
san's  fist,  and  the  other  was  hurled  aside.  The  burglar 
that  Lee  had  been  fighting  tore  himself  loose  and  turned 
toward  Badger  and  the  stairway.  Then  the  Westerner 
heard  the  ominous  click  of  a  revolver.  These  burglars, 
like  all  of  their  craft,  were  ready  to  do  murder  if  it 
seemed  necessary. 

Lee  tripped  the  burglar  with  the  revolver,  and  the 
shot  went  into  the  floor.  The  other  burglar  was  com- 
ing up  the  stairway  with  tremendous  leaps.  The  house 
seemed  to  be  arousing.  Badger  heard  a  woman  scream. 

"Kill  him !"  was  panted  by  one  of  the  villains. 

Then  the  jimmy  descended,  and  though  the  Westerner 
tried  to  knock  the  blow  aside,  his  arm  was  beaten  down, 
and  the  jimmy  fell  on  his  head  with  crushing  force. 


Into  a  Trap.  23 J 

(Badger's  head  seemed  to  split  open  under  that  blow,  and 
a  blur  of  blood  and  mistiness  followed.  He  felt  him- 
self reeling  and  sinking,  with  his  feet  slipping  on  the 
stairway,  toward  which  he  had  fallen.  Then  he  dropped 
like  an  ox  in  the  shambles. 

But  before  complete  unconsciousness  came,  he  heard 
the  shout  of  a  well-known  voice — the  voice  of  Frank 
Merriwell ! 

Merriwell  came  upon  the  scene  from  a  corridor,  having 
been  drawn  by  the  calls  and  the  pistol-shots,  and  with 
marvelous  quickness  and  certainty  grasped  the  whole  in- 
tent of  what  he  beheld. 

Fairfax  Lee  struck  aside  the  revolver  that  was  pointed 
at  Frank,  and  again  began  to  call  for  help.  The  next 
instant  Merriwell  was  in  the  thick  of  the  fight.  Though 
no  man  could  have  understood  his  peril  more  perfectly, 
there  was  at  that  moment  in  Merriwell's  heart  a  wild 
thrill  of  joy.  He  laughed  as  he  struck  at  the  nearest 
ruffian — a  laugh  that  sounded  strangely  out  of  place. 

The  blow  fell  with  crushing  force,  and  the  ruffian 
tumbled  backward  against  the  wall.  Before  Merriwell 
could  turn,  two  of  the  other  three  ruffians  were  on  his 
back.  One  had  drawn  a  knife  and  the  other  had  the 
jimmy.  The  remaining  burglar  was  on  the  stairs,  and 
was  lifting  a  revolver.  Merriwell  lunged  toward  him, 
and  the  man,  instead  of  firing,  lost  his  footing,  and  went 
tumbling  down  the  steps. 

Tnasmuch  as  he  had  a  revolver,  he  seemed  the  most 


334  Into  a  Trap. 

dangerous,  and  Frank  leaped  after  him,  dragging  with 
him  the  scoundrels  who  were  trying  to  strike  him  from 
behind.  But  the  terrible  fall  knocked  the  breath  out  of 
the  burglar,  and  he  slid  helplessly  on  down  the  stair- 
way, letting  the  revolver  go  bumping  and  clattering  to 
the  floor  below.  Merriwell  wheeled  with  lightning  quick- 
ness to  meet  the  man  with  the  threatening  jimmy. 

Badger  seemed  to  be  slipping  down  the  stairway,  also. 
Then  Frank  saw  him  lift  himself  and  try  to  stagger  to 
bis  feet.  Without  taking  further  note  of  this,  Merri- 
well promptly  closed  with  the  other  burglar  on  the  stairs. 

"Shoot  him,  Bill !"  the  fellow  cried,  to  his  pal  above. 

But  that  worthy,  believing  that  "he  who  fights  and 
runs  away  may  live  to  fight  another  day,"  was  making 
tracks  for  the  nearest  window,  intending  to  leap  to  the 
ground. 

The  burglar  who  had  closed  with  Frank,  endeavored 
to  trip  him,  with  the  result  that  he  was  himself  shot  over 
Frank's  head,  and  went  to  the  bottom  of  the  stairs  at  a 
flying  leap,  bowling  over  his  pals,  who  were  trying  to 
get  on  their  feet  and  pull  themselves  together.  Merri- 
well caught  the  stairway  rail,  down  which  he  slid  almost 
as  quickly.  His  hand  closed  on  the  revolver  which  had 
fallen  to  the  floor;  and,  with  it  cocked  and  leveled,  he 
wheeled,  facing  the  men,  who,  swearing  horribly,  were 
igain  trying  to  gain  their  feet. 

"Surrender!"  he  sharply  called. 

The  answer  was  an  oatft. 


Into  a  Trap.  235 

"Surrender,  or  by  the  gods  of  war  I'll  drop  you  one 
and  all  right  where  you  are!  Up  with  your  paws!" 

They  knew  he  meant  it,  and  there  was  no  escape.  The 
next  moment  the  three  burglars  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
put  up  their  hands  in  token  of  submission. 

******* 

Badger  sat  in  his  room.  His  bandaged  head  ached 
painfully,  but  in  his  heart  there  was  a  glow  of  pleasure. 
The  surgeon  had  told  him  that  he  would  be  all  right 
in  a  day  or  two,  and  he  had  just  received  a  note  from 
Winnie  Lee. 

"Dear  Buck,"  it  read,  "I  have  had  a  long  talk  with 
father.  He  says  that  both  you  and  Merriwell  fought  like 
heroes,  and  that  your  prompt  appearance  on  the  scene  no 
doubt  saved  his  life.  In  spite  of  this,  though,  he  is  not 
willing  that  I  shall  receive  calls  from  you.  But  I  can  see 
that  his  opposition  is  not  nearly  so  strong  as  it  was,  and 
I  have  hopes  that  it  will  soon  disappear  altogether. 
Father  says  that  the  burglars  which  Merriwell  captured 
will  no  doubt  be  sent  to  State's  prison.  Thank  Frank  for 
me  for  his  great  favor  in  speaking  to  father  for  you,  as 
he  did — for  I  can  see  that  father's  change  toward  you  is 
due  more  to  Frank's  talk  than  to  your  fight,  brave  as  that 
was.  I  will  meet  you  as  often  as  I  can,  Buck,  and  I 
will  send  you  a  note  every  day.  And  we  will  be  true  to 
each  other  always,  in  spite  of  father's  opposition.  Your 
sweetheart,  WINNIE." 

"There  never  was  any  girl  truer!"  muttered  the  Kan- 
san,  as  he  read  and  reread  the  note.  "That's  whatever  1 


236  Into  a  Trap. 

She  is  true  as  steel!  But,"  he  continued,  "how  can  I 
thank  Merriwell  for  his  part  in  the  affair  ?  He  pulled  me 
through,  all  right,  and  there's  no  mistaking  that  fact." 

Hardly  had  he  uttered  these  words,  than  a  knock  came 
at  the  door.  "Come  in,"  said  Buck — and  in  walked  Frank 
himself ! 

"Well,  I'm  glad  to  see  you,"  said  Buck,  "and  that's 
whatever!  I  want  to  know  how  I  can  thank  you  for 
what  you've  done  for  me  in  this  affair,  in  going  to  Win- 
nie's father  in  the  way  you  did." 

A  gleam  came  into  Frank's  eyes  as  he  sat  there,  and  a 
smile  played  on  his  lips. 

"My  dear  fellow,"  he  said  finally,  "I  don't  want  any  re- 
ward from  you  or  any  one  else  for  what  I  do,  by  way  of 
helping  them  out.  I  do  the  best  I  can  in  that  respect — 
the  same  as  you  or  anyone  else  would  do — and  that's  re- 
ward enough  for  mo — a  clear  conscience!  Thanks,  all 
the  same,  Buck." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

BAD    NEWS. 

So  sunshine  follows  storm! 

It  was  a  jolly  party  aboard  the  Merry  Seas,  as  she 
bowled  along  on  her  way  from  New  Haven  to  New 
York.  It  was  composed  of  Frank  Merriwell  and  a  num- 
ber of  his  intimate  friends ;  and  wherever  Frank  and  his 
friends  were,  Dull  Care  usually  hid  his  agued  face  and 
gave  place  to  smiling  Pleasure. 

"That  grumbling  old  boatman  at  the  New  Haven  wharf 
was  a  liar!"  groaned  Dismal  Jones,  as  if  it  were  a  grief 
that  he  had  not  found  the  boatman's  unpleasant  prognos- 
tications true. 

"What  did  he  say?"  asked  Danny  Griswold,  who  had 
been  prancing  the  deck  like  a  diminutive  admiral,  stop- 
ping now  and  blowing  a  cloud  of  cigarette  smoke  from 
his  nostrils. 

"He  said  that  a  smoker  of  cigarettes  is  always  a  meas- 
ly runt!"  grunted  Bruce  Browning,  from  the  big  chair 
in  which  he  had  ensconced  himself  almost  as  soon  as  he 
came  aboard,  and  which  he  had  hardly  left  since. 

"You're  another!"  said  Danny.  "He  didn't  say  any- 
thing of  the  kind." 

"He  was  a  poet,"  said  Dismal,  "and  he  threw  his  com- 


138  Bad  News. 

ment  into  rime.    I  was  taken  in  by  him,  I  suppose,  be- 
cause he  seemed  to  be  half-way  quoting  Scripture: 

"  'The  Pharisees  were  hypocrites, 
And  the  Merry  Seas  is  a  ship  o'  fits !' " 

"A  ship  o'  fits  ?  Nothing  eccentric  about  this  steamer, 
so  far  as  I  can  see !" 

"Except  Danny  Griswold !"  exclaimed  Bink  Stubbs. 
"He  is  enough  to  give  anything  fits." 

"Something  your  tailor  is  never  able  to  give  you !" 
Danny  retorted. 

"Sit  down !"  growled  Browning.  "You  are  shutting 
out  the  view !" 

"What  view?"  Danny  demanded. 

"The  view  of  the  steamer's  funnel.  I'd  rather  look  at 
that.  It  can  smoke  and  keep  still — and  you  can't." 

Inza  and  Elsie  came  along,  accompanied  by  Merriwell 
and  Bart  Hodge.  Winnie  Lee,  who  was  at  present  un- 
der her  father's  displeasure  for  her  persistence  in  con- 
tinuing to  encourage  Buck  Badger,  was  not  aboard,  but 
Amy  May  was  a  member  of  the  party.  At  the  moment, 
she  was  conversing  gaily  with  Bernard  Burrage,  Inza's 
semi-invalid  father,  on  the  forward-deck. 

"We're  going  to  have  a  fog!"  said  Merriwell,  speak- 
ing to  Bruce  and  those  near.  "I  have  been  hoping  it 
would  hold  off  until  we  reach  New  York,  but  it  isn't  go- 
ing to." 

"I'd  rather  be  in  a  ship  that  has  fits  now  and  then. 


Bad  News.  239 

than  to  be  stuck  in  a  fog-bank  1"  Bink  declared.    "I  guess 
that  New  Haven  boatman  was  a  prophet,  after  all." 

The  Merry  Seas  was  a  steamer  running  on  a  some- 
what irregular  schedule  to  New  Haven  and  New  London, 
and  back  to  the  great  metropolis  by  the  sea  route  along 
the  ocean  side  of  Long  Island,  touching  at  one  or  two 
Long  Island  points. 

Merriwell's  friends  had  decided  on  a  steamer  voyage 
to  New  York  and  back  as  a  change  from  the  usual  work 
and  athletics  at  Yale.  Not  that  they  were  tired  of  either. 
But  nothing  of  signal  importance  was  OP  the  program  to 
detain  them  in  New  Haven,  and  they  were  away,  there- 
fore, for  this  short  trip  by  boat. 

The  ordinary  Sound  route  between  New  Haven  and 
New  York  was  familiar  ground  to  every  member  of  the 
party,  and  something  new  was  desired.  Hence  they  had 
taken  the  Merry  Seas,  which  had  steamed  to  New  Lon- 
don, and  out  to  sea  between  Block  Island  and  Montauk 
Point,  and  had  then  laid  her  course  down  the  Long  Island 
coast  for  New  York  harbor. 

Inza  laughed  at  Bink's  lugubrious  declaration.  Gamp 
was  laughing,  too. 

"If  we  get  stuck  in  a  fog,  we  can  have  Joe  Gamp  yell 
a  few  times  for  us.  That  will  do  for  a  fog-horn." 

"Then  the  Merry  Seas  will  have  fits,  sure  enough  1" 
Bink. 

Gamp  looked  serious. 
'Well,  honest,  now,  that  dud-dud-don't  sus- sound  so 


240  Bad  News. 

funny  to  mum-me  as  it  dud-does  to  you.  Owned  a  cuc- 
cuc-carf  once,  that  was  pup-prancing  raound  in  the  med- 
der  pup-pup-pasture,  and  I  gug-got  so  tickled  that  I  just 
sus-set  daown  and  hollered.  Goshfry!  you  wouldn't  be- 
lieve it,  bub-bub-but  that  cuc-carf  fell  over  dead's  a  stun 
wall !" 

"Gave  it  heart-disease,  of  course!"  Bink  gravely  ob- 
served. "Not  to  be  wondered  at." 

"I'm  just  tut-tut-telling  this  story  as  a  warning  tut-to 
you !"  Joe  solemnly  observed.  "The  hoss  dud-dud-doc- 
tor said  that  the  pup-poor  thing's  head  was  weak.  Sus-so 
when  we  get  into  a  fuf-fog  and  I  begug-gin  to  holler, 
bub-bub-better  pup-put  cotton  into  your  ears,  Binky!" 

Stubbs  fell  back  into  Danny's  arms. 

"Ar-r-r-r !"  he  gurgled.     "I've  got  'em  now.     Fits !" 

"I'll  give  you  fits,  if  you  don't  stop  tumbling  over 
against  me!"  Danny  howled,  giving  Bink  a  push  that 
landed  him  in  Browning's  lap.  Everybody  laughed,  and 
Merriwell  and  his  companions  walked  on  round  the 
steamer's  rail. 

"It  hurts  me  to  think  that  I  must  separate  soon  from  all 
those  jolly  fellows !"  Merry  observed,  in  a  saddened  voice. 
"But  commencement  is  rushing  this  way  at  railroad  speed, 
and  most  of  them  will  go  out  of  Yale  then  forever." 

"We'll  not  get  blue  about  it  until  we  have  to,"  said 
Elsie,  though  the  thought  had  saddened  her  more  than 
once. 


Bad  News.  241 

"Just  see  how  the  fog  is  coming  down!"  Inza  ob- 
served. 

"Hello!"  cried  Hodge,  "another  vessel!" 

A  steamer  hove  into  view  through  the  thickening  mist. 
The  boats  began  to  sound  their  whistles. 

"A  sort  of  Flying  Dutchman!"  remarked  Merriwell, 
and,  indeed,  the  passing  steamer  did  seem  more  a  phan- 
tasm of  the  fog  than  a  real  vessel  carrying  living,  breath- 
ing people.  The  Merry  Seas  sounded  her  whistle  at  fre- 
quent intervals  as  she  pushed  on  into  the  fog,  and  for 
some  time  after  the  steamer  had  vanished  her  hoarse 
whistle  could  also  be  heard. 

"Hello!"  cried  Browning,  who  had  been  lazily  look- 
ing over  some  late  New  York  papers. 

The  tone  and  the  change  in  his  manner  told  that  he 
had  come  on  a  startling  piece  of  news. 

"What  is  it?"  Diamond  asked. 

"Maybe  only  the  same  name!"  said  Browning,  and 
then  read  this  paragraph  from  the  telegraphic  columns : 

"A  young  Irishman  named  Barney  Mulloy  was  at- 
tacked and  killed  by  hoboes  near  Sea  Cove,  on  the  coast 
not  far  from  Sandy  Hook,  yesterday  morning.  The  ob- 
ject of  the  tramps  was  doubtless  robbery,  as  Mulloy  is 
known  to  have  had  a  considerable  sum  of  money  on  his 
person." 

Browning  looked  up  questioningly. 
'Likely  another  fellow,  though!"  he  said. 


242  Bad  News. 

"By  Jove!  I'm  afraid  not!"  exclaimed  Frank,  who 
had  hastily  taken  the  paper  from  Bruce,  and  was  staring 
in  consternation  at  the  fateful  item. 

"There  may  be  a  hundred  Barney  Mulloys !"  said  Rat- 
tleton. 

Frank  shook  his  head. 

"I  had  a  letter  from  him  a  few  days  ago,  and  he  was 
then  stopping  at  Sea  Cove.  He  was  making  money, 
too!" 

Merriwell  felt  stunned.  Barney  Mulloy  had  been  one 
of  his  dearest  friends,  faithful  and  honest,  kind-hearted 
and  true,  jolly  and  hopeful.  Through  all  of  his  hilari- 
ous experiences  at  Fardale,  Frank  had  not  a  stancher 
adherent.  And  now  Barney  was  dead,  slain  by  a  lot  of 
miserable  tramps!  Tears  of  honest  grief  and  indigna- 
tion came  into  Frank's  eyes. 

"Barney  Mulloy  dead  ?"  exclaimed  Inza,  coming  up  at 
that  moment  and  hearing  the  news. 

"What?"  cried  Elsie. 

"Report  in  the  Herald,"  Frank  answered.  "Killed  yes- 
terday by  hoboes,  somewhere  below  Sandy  Hook." 

Bad  news  spreads  as  if  by  magic.  In  a  little  while 
the  other  members  of  the  party,  having  read  the  story 
for  themselves  or  heard  of  it  from  others,  gathered  round 
Merriwell. 

"Well,  he  was  an  honest  boy,"  said  Hodge,  a  noticeable 
tremor  in  his  voice. 


Bad  News.  243 

"A  better-hearted  lad  never  lived!"  Merriwell  as- 
serted. 

Frank's  mind  went  back  to  Fardale,  and,  grieved  as 
he  was,  he  could  again  hear  the  yells  of  Barney  Mulloy 
and  Hans  Dunnerwust,  when  they  crawled  into  bed  with 
the  lobsters,  which  they  thought  were  centipedes.  It  had 
been  one  of  the  funniest  incidents  of  the  Fardale  days, 
for  both  thought  they  were  poisoned  by  the  bites  of  the 
creatures,  and  that  they  would  surely  die.  The  whole 
thing  had  been  a  practical  joke,  in  which  Frank  had 
played  a  prominent  part.  And  now  Barney,  the  mis- 
chievous, the  loyal,  the  reckless,  was  dead! 

"I  can  hardly  believe  it !"  Merry  declared.  "It  doesn't 
seem  possible.  But  there  is  one  thing!  I  shall  spend 
some  money  in  having  those  hoboes  hunted  down  and 
punished  for  their  crime." 

"I  wish  I  could  have  happened  along  there  about  the 
time  they  jumped  on  him!"  growled  Hodge,  and  the 
light  in  his  dark  face  showed  that  he  would  have  done 
his  best  to  make  it  hot  for  the  hoboes  ii  he  could  have 
put  his  hands  on  them.  "Barney  had  the  right  kind  of 
stuff  in  him." 

This  depressing  bit  of  news  took  all  the  merriment 
and  life  out  of  the  little  party.  And,  as  the  steamer 
wallowed  on  through  the  increasing  fog,  the  world 
seemed  suddenly  to  have  become  wrapped  in  gloom. 

"Wish  we'd  stayed  in  New  Haven!"  grunted  Brown- 


244  Bac*  News. 

ing.  "I'll  have  to  smoke  faster  to  keep  warm,  or  go 
below." 

"And  I  wish  we  were  in  New  York,"  said  Bink. 
"There  is  something  there  to  warm  up  the  blood." 

Danny  looked  at  him. 

"Drinks?  Likely  the  captain  has  a  private  bottle 
tucked  away  somewhere  that  he  will  give  you  a  nip 
out  of." 

"Life,  I  mean.  Pulsing  streets,  swarms  of  people, 
theaters,  hand-organs " 

"Oh,  yes,  a  monkey  is  usually  lost  away  from  a  hand- 
organ  !" 

"I  suppose  that  is  why  you  always  seem  so  lonesome! 
When  Merry  is  sad,  we  all  are — grumpy !  New  York 
would  help  to  lift  us  out  of  the  dumps." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ADRIFT    IN    THE   ATLANTIC. 

"So  thick  you  might  cut  it  with  a  knife  1" 

Captain  Darien,  who  had  walked  forward  and  joined 
the  group  of  Merriwell's  friends,  looked  off  into  the 
wall  of  gloom  as  he  said  this.  The  Merry  Seas  was 
mournfully  blowing  her  whistle,  and  others  were  con- 
tinually heard.  The  steamer  was  Hearing  New  York 
harbor. 

"Will  you  try  to  run  in,  captain?"  Frank  asked. 

"Oh  I  think  we  can  make  it.  I  don't  like  to  anchor 
out  here  all  night.  I  have  a  pretty  good  idea  of  just 
where  we  are." 

"The  fog  may  lift  before  night." 

The  captain  looked  at  his  watch,  and  saw  that  it  in- 
dicated nearly  three  o'clock. 

"I'm  afraid  not.  And  likely  it  will  be  no  better  in 
the  morning.  I  shall  try  to  go  in." 

A  fog-siren  somewhere  on  the  invisible  shore  was 
sending  out  its  unearthly  blasts.  Then  a  whistle  seemed 
to  cut  the  gloom  right  ahead,  and  a  big  black  shape 
loomed  through  the  murk.  The  Merry  Seas  sounded 
her  warning,  and  the  helm  was  jammed  hard  a-starboard. 
Another  shriek  came  from  the  phantom  that  had  seemed 


346  Adrift  in  the  Atlantic. 

to  rise  right  out  of  the  sea.  With  that  shriek,  she  also 
swung  off. 

"I  thought  we  were  in  for  a  collision!"  said  Frank, 
breathing  more  freely.  "It  will  be  a  squeak  as  it  is." 

Elsie  had  nervously  clutched  him  by  the  arm.  All  were 
moving  back  from  the  dangerous  vicinity  toward  the 
other  rail. 

"A  tug !"  said  Bart,  who  was  standing  near  Merriwell. 

The  tug,  which  was  a  large  one,  seemed  now  fairly  on 
top  of  them.  In  size,  it  was  as  large  or  larger  than  the 
Merry  Seas.  A  collision  of  the  two  vessels  would  be  a 
serious  thing. 

"We're  going  to  strike,  or  scrape !"  Frank  warned, 
taking  Inza  and  Elsie  each  by  an  arm.  "Brace  for  it!" 

Orders  were  being  given,  and  the  whistles  were 
hoarsely  blowing.  Both  vessels  were  still  falling  off. 
Some  one  on  the  tug  bellowed  frantically  through  a  big 
trumpet. 

"What  was  that  ?"  Inza  asked. 

"Tows!"  said  Frank.     "Something  about  tows!" 

The  tug  and  the  steamer  did  not  strike,  though  they 
grazed  each  other  so  closely  that  a  collision  seemed  un- 
avoidable. Then  there  was  more  bellowing  through 
trumpets  and  more  whistling,  and  Frank  felt  the  Merry 
Seas  tremble  under  him  as  her  engines  were  reversed. 
He  knew  not  what  to  expect 

Crash  1 


Adrift  in  the  Atlantic.  247 

The  big  tug,  Gladiator,  had  a  string  of  heavily  laden 
barges  in  tow.  Into  one  of  these  barges,  in  spite  of 
every  effort  to  prevent  it,  the  bow  of  the  Merry  Seas 
crashed  with  terrible  force.  It  was  as  if  a  horse  should 
rush  headlong  against  a  stone  wall. 

The  shock  was  terrific.  Merriwell  heard  a  sound  of 
smashing  timbers  and  snapping  iron.  He  was  pitched 
violently  from  his  feet  as  the  bow  of  the  Merry  Seas  was 
forced  downward  by  the  collision.  He  felt  himself  fly- 
ing through  the  air.  Then  he  struck  the  water,  and  went 
down,  down,  down! 

But  Frank  did  not  lose  consciousness.  And  as  he  came 
to  the  surface,  he  supported  himself  by  a  gentle  motion 
of  his  hands  and  feet,  and  tried  to  look  about.  He  knew 
how  great  was  his  peril.  But  his  thoughts  were  not 
wholly  of  himself.  He  thought  of  Inza  and  Elsie,  of 
Hodge  and  his  other  friends.  What  had  befallen  them? 
Had  they,  too,  been  hurled  into  the  sea  by  that  awful 
shock?  If  so,  there  could  be  little  doubt  that  some  of 
them,  if  not  all,  would  be  drowned. 

He  shouted  for  assistance,  and  heard  a  hoarse  whistle 
not  far  away.  He  could  see  nothing,  for  the  fog  was  as 
impenetrable  as  a  blanket.  He  began  to  swim  toward 
the  sound.  He  could  not  tell  whether  the  whistle  was 
that  of  the  tug  or  the  Merry  Seas  or  of  some  other  ves- 
sel. Again  he  sent  up  a  call  for  help.  The  water  was 
cold  and  his  clothing  heavy.  He  was  thinking  of  try- 


248  Adrift  in  the  Atlantic. 

ing  to  get  out  of  his  shoes  and  outer  coat,  when  he  heard 
a  human  cry  not  far  away. 

"Help !  help !"  some  one  called. 

"Help!  help-!"  Frank  shouted. 

But  instead  of  swimming  on,  he  turned  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  cry.  It  indicated  a  human  being  in  distress 
and  peril,  and  he  felt  that  he  might  be  able  to  save  a  life. 

"Help !"  came  the  cry  again. 

The  voice  was  so  choked  and  thick,  and  there  was  such 
a  rush  of  water  in  his  ears  that  Merry  could  not  tell 
much  about  it,  yet  it  seemed  familiar.  It  was  near  at 
hand,  too;  and,  sending  back  an  answering  call,  Frank 
swam  straight  toward  it. 

"Help!"  was  shouted,  right  at  hand  now,  for  the  voice 
seemed  to  be  drifting  toward  him. 

"Where  are  you?" 

For  answer,  Merriwell  received  a  heavy  blow  on  the 
head  and  breast  from  a  piece  of  timber.  He  went  under 
with  a  cry,  his  head  ringing  and  his  senses  reeling. 

The  next  thing  he  knew,  he  was  stretched  out  on 
some  sort  of  raft,  and  some  one  was  holding  him  there 
by  sheer  force.  His  feet  and  legs  were  trailing  through 
the  water.  The  whistle  of  the  steamer  or  tug  sounded 
again,  but  farther  away. 

"Is  that  you,  Merry?    How  are  you  feeling?" 

It  was  a  familiar  voice,  though  thick  and  husky — the 
voice  of  Bart  Hodge. 


Adrift  in  the  Atlantic.  249 

It  steadied  Merriwell's  reeling  brain.  He  took  hold 
of  the  boards  and  sought  to  draw  himself  still  higher 
on  them. 

"That  you,  Hodge?" 

"Yes.  I  thought  that  was  you,  Merry.  How  are 
you?" 

"Soaked.  But  I  guess  I  am  all  right.  Something  hit 
me  on  the  head  and  shoulders,  and  I  went  under.  I  was 
swimming  this  way.  Heard  somebody  call." 

"I  called,  and  you  were  struck  by  this  drift.  I  heard 
you,  and  felt  the  shock  when  you  struck.  I  reached  out 
and  got  hold  of  you — and  here  you  are  ?" 

"Yes,  here — and  where  is  that?" 

"In  the  Atlantic,  somewhere  off  New  York.  I  doubt 
if  the  captain  knew." 

"What  became  of  the  rest  of  the  crowd?" 

"Don't  know.  That  collision  threw  me  clean  over  the 
rail.  I  fell  near  these  boards.  I  don't  know  but  they 
came  from  the  barge.  When  I  came  up,  I  bumped 
against  them,  and  then  hung  on  and  began  to  call  for 
help." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence.  Both  were  listen- 
ing. Whistles  could  be  heard  here  and  there.  Off  to 
the  left  somewhere  they  fancied  they  heard  a  voice  call- 
ing, but  whether  it  came  from  the  deck  of  a  vessel  or 
from  some  unfortunate  in  the  water  they  could  not  de- 


250  Adrift  in  the  Atlantic. 

termine.  Near  and  far  the  whistles  of  steamers  and  tugs 
were  hoarsely  bellowing. 

"With  so  many  vessels  around,  we  ought  to  be  picked 
up  soon,"  said  Hodge. 

''We  would  be,  if  any  one  could  see  anything.  But  a 
boat  would  have  to  run  right  over  us  to  find  us.  Hark! 
wasn't  that  rowlocks?" 

Again  they  listened.  The  sound  of  oars  was  certainly 
heard. 

Clug-clank,  clug-clank,  clug-clank. 

"Let  us  call  together,"  said  Merry.  "Now !  As  loud 
as  you  can." 

Both  shouted  with  all  their  might.  For  an  instant  they 
fancied  the  boat  was  coming  toward  them,  and  they 
shouted  again.  But  it  was  almost  impossible  to  deter- 
mine the  direction  of  sound.  They  could  not  them- 
selves be  sure  of  the  direction  of  the  boat.  The  "clug- 
clank"  grew  fainter  and  fainter. 

"We're  bound  to  be  picked  up  soon,"  Merriwell  cheer- 
ily declared.  "We  must  be  right  in  the  track  of  vessels. 
We'd  be  picked  up  right  away  if  it  wasn't  for  this  beastly 
fog." 

Hodge  was  silent. 

"What  do  you  suppose  has  become  of  the  others? 
They  were  right  with  us,  you  know,  when  we  went  over !" 

"I'm  afraid  to  think  about  it,"  said  Frank,  with  a 
shudder,  which  was  not  caused  by  the  chill  of  the 
water. 


Adrift  in  the  Atlantic.  251 

"I  can't  help  thinking  about  it!" 

"Nor  I.  But  I'm  hoping  we  were  the  only  ones  that 
went  overboard.  We  must  try  to  believe  that,  Bart,  unti> 
we  cannot  believe  it  any  longer." 

Hodge  was  silent. 

"And  as  for  ourselves !" 

"Oh,  I  wasn't  thinking  of  ourselves,"  said  Bart.  "We 
can  hang  on  here  a  good  while,  I  think.  I  suppose  we're 
being  carried  out  to  sea,  though !" 

"Not  much  doubt  of  that,  I  guess.  But  we've  pulled 
through  worse  scrapes  together,  Bart!" 

"That's  right,  Merry!  And  we'll  pull  through  this. 
Are  you  up  high  enough  on  the  boards?  Let  me  help 
you !  You  can't  be  feeling  very  strong  after  that  blow." 

Merriwell  drew  himself  higher  out  of  the  water,  and 
found  that  the  heavy  board  supported  his  weight 

"If  only  the  fog  would  clear  now !  I  hear  a  whistle 
away  off  there." 

"Do  you  suppose  the  Merry  Seas  was  sunk?"  Hodge 
asked. 

"I  sha'n't  think  so  until  I  have  to.  I  think  the  barge 
got  much  the  worst  of  it.  The  steamer  seemed  to  cut 
it  right  in  two." 

"Perhaps  we  can  get  up  higher  on  these  boards." 

"I've  been  thinking  of  that  myself,"  Hodge  answered. 

The  two  friends  had  locked  hands  across  the  narrow 
space  that  separated  them.  Now,  by  Merriwell  first 
helping  Bart  and  then  Bart  returning  the  favor, 


252  Adrift  in  the  Atlantic. 

managed  to  get  up  higher  out  of  the  water,  and  were 
gratified  to  find  that  the  boards  were  sufficiently  buoyant 
to  sustain  them. 

For  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  they  had  thus  drifted  on, 
talking  and  conjecturing,  listening  at  intervals,  and  now 
and  then  sending  up  a  loud  call.  The  fog-siren  on  the 
shore  was  still  screeching,  and  the  whistles  of  vessels 
were  now  and  then  heard.  But  about  them  was  that 
impenetrable  gray  wall  of  fog. 

Having  secured  an  easier  position,  Frank  fumbled 
with  his  chilled  fingers  for  his  watch,  which  he  finally 
drew  out.  It  was  wet,  of  course,  but,  to  his  surprise, 
was  still  merrily  ticking  away.  By  holding  it  near  his 
eyes  the  time  could  be  told. 

"About  half  an  hour,  I  judge,  since  the  collision." 

"No  more  than  that?  Seems  to  me  it  has  been  a  half 
a  day." 

Again  there  was  silence. 

"I  should  think  a  vessel  would  anchor,  instead  of  try- 
ing to  go  on  in  such  a  fog  as  this !"  Bart  snarled. 

The  memory  of  the  disaster  was  beginning  to  make 
him  bitter  against  the  captain. 

"They  do,  usually.  The  captain  thought  he  could 
make  his  way  in,  that  is  all !" 

"And  I'm  afraid  some  of  our  friends  have  gone  to  the 
bottom  as  a  result  of  it.  We  seem  in  a  good  way  to 
investigate  Davy  Jones'  locker  ourselves  V 


Adrift  in  the  Atlantic.  253 

"I'm  going  to  believe  that  our  friends  are  all  right.  It 
can't  be  possible  that  both  the  tug  and  the  steamer  sank. 
The  tug  wasn't  really  in  the  collision,  you  know.  She 
would  be  able  to  take  off  every  one  from  the  steamer,  no 
doubt,  even  if  the  steamer  was  so  injured  that  she  could 
not  float.  The  thing  I  most  fear  is  that  some  of  them 
may  have  been  hurled  overboard,  just  as  we  were,  and 
were  not  lucky  enough  to  find  anything  to  sustain  them. 
But  I  shall  not  believe  anything  of  the  kind  as  long  as 
I  can  hope  that  it  isn't  so." 

But  for  Merriwell,  Hodge  would  have  been  very  de- 
spondent, especially  as  the  long  hours  of  the  afternoon 
began  to  wear  on  and  no  boat  came  near  them,  and  their 
frequent  cries  seemed  to  remain  unheard;  but  Frank's 
hopefulness  and  cheerful  optimism  were  not  without  good 
effect  on  the  mind  of  his  friend,  and  they  were  even  able 
at  times  to  talk  with  some  degree  of  mental  comfort. 

Frank  was  sure  that  they  were  steadily  drifting  out 
to  sea.  He  believed,  from  the  change  in  the  apparent 
direction  of  the  fog-siren,  that  they  were  moving  down 
the  coast  toward  Sandy  Hook.  But  they  were  evi- 
dently floating  farther  out  to  sea,  for  the  sounds  of  the 
siren  were  fainter  and  farther  away. 

"I  believe  the  fog  is  going  to  lighten." 

Merriwell  lifted  himself  and  strained  his  eyes  through 
the  gloom.  A  suggestion  of  a  breeze  had  fanned  him. 

"If  the  wind  gets  up,  the  fog  may  be  driven  away,"  he 
said. 


254  Adrift  in  the  Atlantic. 

"And  the  wind  will  kick  up  a  sea!"  suggested  Bart. 

"But  if  the  fog  lifts,  we  will  probably  be  seen  by  some 
vessel !" 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  a  gentle  breeze  was  be- 
ginning to  blow. 

"Sure  enough,  the  fog  is  thinning!"  Bart  cried  joy 
fully.  "But  I  don't  hear  any  more  whistles." 

"Hark!  there  one  sounded." 

"Miles  away!" 

"Wait  till  the  fog  rises.     Perhaps  there  are  others." 

Anxiously  they  watched  the  gray  wall.  The  wind  died 
away,  and  once  or  twice  it  seemed  that  the  fog  was  grow- 
ing denser,  instead  of  lightening.  But  by  and  by  the  sun- 
light seemed  to  permeate  it.  It  appeared  to  become 
thinner.  Then,  like  a  great  curtain  uplifted,  it  for  a  little 
while  swung  upward  from  the  face  of  the  heaving  sea. 
All  around  were  the  green  rollers,  rising  and  falling  with 
an  oily  swell. 

Hodge  uttered  an  exclamation  of  gratification. 

"Look!" 

Merriwell  looked  in  the  direction  indicated.  Not  a 
fourth  of  a  mile  away  a  dingy  fishing-sloop  was  bobbing 
along,  with  her  dirty  mainsail  and  jib  set,  yet  seeming  to 
catch  no  breeze.  Both  Merry  and  Hodge  forgot  their 
discomfort,  forgot  their  chilled  and  benumbed  condi- 
tion, and,  lifting  themselves  as  high  as  they  could,  shouted 
lor  assistance. 

Tkere  must  have  been  some  breeze  in  the  dingy  sails, 


Adrift  in  the  Atlantic. 

for  the  vessel  was  moving  athwart  the  line  of  their 
progress,  and  they  were  being  carried  along  by  the  tide. 

"Shout  again!"  said  Merriwell,  and  again  they  lifted 
their  voices  together. 

In  another  direction  a  steamer  could  be  seen,  but  those 
on  the  steamer  evidently  did  not  see  the  sufferers  on  the 
raft 

"I  don't  believe  there  is  a  soul  on  the  sloop!"  Bart 
declared,  in  a  despairing  way. 

"Well,  if  she  keeps  on  her  course,  we'll  get  so  near 
that  perhaps  we  can  swim  to  her  and  climb  on  board." 

But  Bart  was  wrong.  Hardly  had  he  made  the  dec- 
laration, when  a  man  appeared  on  deck,  accompanied  by 
a  shaggy  dog. 

Merriwell  and  Hodge  renewed  their  cries  to  attract  his 
attention.  But  the  man  gave  them  absolutely  no  heed. 
Once  they  fancied  that  the  dog  turned  his  nose  in  their 
direction. 

"He  don't  want  to  see  us,"  Bart  growled.  "We  are 
near  enough  for  him  to  hear !  I " 

His  sentence  was  interrupted  by  a  young  lady  who 
rushed  suddenly  on  deck  from  the  "cuddy"  or  cabin.  A 
scream  issued  from  her  lips  as  she  appeared,  and  imme- 
diately a  second  man  came  into  view,  from  whom  she 
seemed  to  be  fleeing. 

"My  God !    Inza  Burrage !" 

Merriwell  fairly  shouted  the  words. 

Inza  did  not  see  the  raft  and  her  friends.     She  ap- 


2$6  Adrift  in  the  Atlantic. 

peared  to  see  only  the  shaggy-bearded  fellow,  who  now 
stood  grimly  looking  at  her. 

"She's  going  to  jump  overboard!"  cried  Hodge,  so 
excited  that  he  almost  fell  off  the  raft. 

Merriwell  shouted  with  all  his  might  Inza  turned 
and  saw  the  raft.  She  uttered  another  piercing  cry, 
stretched  out  her  hands,  and  seemed  again  about  to  leap 
into  the  sea. 

Instead  of  heeding  the  cry  sent  up  by  Merriwell,  Inza's 
pursuer  leaped  at  her  to  prevent  her  from  jumping  over 
the  rail;  and,  then,  bearing  her  in  his  strong  arms,  de- 
liberately carried  her  back  into  the  cuddy. 

Merriwell  and  Hodge  shouted,  yelled,  screamed.  The 
one  man  on  the  deck  paid  not  the  slightest  attention  to 
their  cries. 

"He  refuses  to  hear  us !"  said  Hodge. 

The  other  man  appeared,  and  they  called  again.  One 
of  the  men  went  to  the  tiller,  and  the  course  of  the  sloop 
was  changed. 

"They  are  going  to  pretend  that  they  did  not  see  u*,1* 
Frank  exclaimed. 

"Hold  to  the  raft,  Hodge !     Stay  by  it !" 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  Hodge  demanded. 

!Tm  going  to  swim  to  that  sloop!" 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  THE  FISHING-SLOOP. 

"Stay  with  the  raft,"  Merriwell  again  commanded. 

"But  I  want  to  go  with  you !    You  will  need  help !' 

"Perhaps  I  may  have  to  return  to  the  raft.  I  can't 
find  it  if  you  leave  it." 

"We  can  get  on  that  vessel.  And  perhaps,  if  you  go 
alone,  you  will  be  killed." 

Merriwell  was  as  anxious  and  almost  as  much  excited, 
but  he  kept  his  head. 

"Don't  you  see  that  the  sloop  is  moving  on  the  new 
tack.  She  may  be  going  faster  than  I  can  swim.  Stay 
on  the  raft !" 

As  he  gave  this  last  command,  he  slipped  out  of  his 
heavy,  soaked  outer  coat,  quickly  removed  his  shoes, 
and,  pushing  these  articles  to  Hodge,  let  himself  into  the 
sea,  and  began  to  swim  toward  the  dingy  fishing-sloop. 
Hodge  did  not  again  shout,  for  he  saw  that  Merriwell's 
plan  was  to  swim  to  the  sloop,  climb  aboard  of  it,  and 
by  a  sudden  attack  overwhelm  the  men. 

"He's  crazy!"  Hodge  grated.  "They  will  see  him, 
and  they  will  simply  knock  him  back  into  the  sea.  They 
act  as  if  they  were  lunatics— or  drunk !  Why  don't  they 
look  this  way?" 

It  was  indeed  singular,  but  neither  of  the  men  seemed 


258    The  Mystery  of  the  Fishing-sioop. 

to  have  noticed  the  raft  or  heard  the  cries  that  came 
from  it.  Merriwell  was  a  splendid  swimmer,  and  in 
spite  of  his  chilled  condition  and  his  hampering  clothing, 
he  moved  through  the  water  almost  like  a  fish. 

"Of  course  I  couldn't  have  kept  up  with  him!"  Bart 
grumbled.  "But  I  could  have  done  my  best.  He  can't 
overpower  both  of  those  men  alone." 

He  held  tightly  to  the  shoes  and  the  coat,  and  looked 
longingly  after  the  swimmer,  turning  his  eyes  often  to 
the  sloop,  that  now,  under  the  influence  of  a  light  breeze, 
was  going  along  in  a  surprising  fashion. 

"And  how  did  Inza  come  to  be  aboard  of  that  sloop  ?" 

Bart  had  not  time  to  think  of  this  before,  but  now 
the  answer  came  quickly  enough.  Inza's  clothing  had 
clung  to  her,  as  she  rushed  on  the  deck,  showing  that  her 
skirts  were  weighted  with  water.  No  doubt,  she,  too, 
had  been  hurled  into  the  sea  by  the  collision  of  the 
steamer  with  the  barge,  and  this  fishing-boat  had  in  some 
manner  picked  her  up. 

"It's  very  queer,  though,  the  way  that  fellow  acted! 
She  was  afraid  of  him.  But  she  is  below,  and  he  is  now 
on  deck.  Likely  enough  he  has  her  shut  up  in  the 
cabin." 

He  beheld  Merriwell  lift  himself  slightly  out  of  the 
water  and  send  out  a  ringing  call.  But  the  men  on  deck 
did  not  stir.  And  the  sloop  sailed  on. 

"The  scoundrels !"  Bart  hissed,  through  his  white  teeth, 
"I  should  like  to  knock  their  heads  together.  They  re- 


The  Mystery  of  the  Fishing-sloop.    259 

fuse  to  hear  him.  They  are  carrying  Inza  away,  and 
they  do  not  intend  that  any  one  shall  come  aboard.  And 
this  within  the  very  shadows  of  New  York  City!" 

The  sloop  heeled  over  under  the  breeze  and  increased 
her  speed.  Merriwell  was  palpably  losing  ground.  Bart 
heard  him  call  again  and  again,  with  the  same  result, 
and  then  Bart  also  lifted  his  voice. 

The  result  was  the  same.  The  sloop  moved  straight 
on.  At  last  he  saw  Merriwell  turn  about  and  swim  again 
toward  the  raft,  when  it  became  evident  that  he  could  not 
overtake  the  sloop. 

"That  is  enough  to  kill  Merry!"  he  thought  sympa- 
thizingly.  "And  Inza  saw  us,  too!  I  wonder  what  she 
thinks?" 

Slowly  and  with  seeming  weariness  Merriwell  came 
back  toward  the  raft.  Bart  lifted  himself  as  high  as  he 
could  to  mark  the  spot  where  the  raft  lay  tossing.  When 
lifted  on  the  crest  of  a  wave,  Merriwell  came  plainly  in 
sight;  but  when  either  Frank  or  the  raft  slipped  down 
the  glassy  surface  of  those  big,  green  rollers,  he  seemed 
to  sink  into  the  sea. 

"I'm  afraid  he  is  going  to  have  a  hard  pull !  He  must 
be  tired  out." 

He  shook  his  fist  at  the  sloop.  It  was  growing  smaller 
and  smaller.  A  haze  was  again  creeping  over  the  sea. 

"My  God!  What  if  the  fog  should  settle  down  again 
and  keep  Merry  from  finding  the  raft?" 

Bart  shuddered  at  the  thought    But  Merriwell  was  so 


260    The  Mystery  of  the  Fishing-sloop. 

strong  a  swimmer  that  Bart's  hopes  rose  again  almost  im- 
mediately. There  were  indications  that  the  fog  was 
once  more  descending,  but  Merriwell  was  now  swimming 
straight  toward  the  raft  with  a  bold,  firm  stroke,  and 
with  considerable  speed. 

"Right  here,  old  man!"  Bart  encouragingly  called. 

"I'm  coming!"  Merriwell  shouted,  and  his  tones  did 
not  show  exhausting  fatigue. 

Then  he  swam  up  to  the  raft,  and  Bart  helped  him  to 
climb  upon  it. 

"What  was  the  matter  with  those  scoundrels?" 

"Deaf!" 

"What?" 

"Deaf  as  posts,  both  of  them!"  Merriwell  explained, 
resting  on  the  boards  and  panting  from  his  exertions. 
"They  didn't  look  this  way  simply  because  they  didn't 
hear  us.  I'm  sure  of  that,  from  the  way  they  acted.  I 
began  to  think  so  when  I  told  you  to  hang  to  the  raft. 
I  believed  that  if  I  could  overtake  the  sloop,  and  could 
climb  aboard  and  make  myself  known,  or  knock  them 
down,  as  my  intention  was,  I  could  then  release  Inza  and 
sail  the  sloop  over  here  and  get  you.  But  I  couldn't 
swim  fast  enough." 

"You  went  through  the  water  like  a  fish!" 

"But  the  sloop  went  faster.  If  that  breeze  hadn't 
sprung  up,  I  think  I  could  have  made  it." 

"And  what  are  they  doing  with  Inza?" 


The  Mystery  of  the  Fishing-sloop.    261 

"I  don't  know.  But  I'm  glad  of  one  thing.  She  isn't 
dead." 

"Deaf!"  muttered  Bart.  "Deaf  as  posts!  Well,  that 
does  make  the  thing  a  bit  clearer." 

The  reaction  from  the  tremendous  exertions  which 
Merriwell  had  put  forth  made  itself  felt  now.  The  ex- 
citement having  passed,  he  felt  almost  exhausted.  He 
climbed  up  as  high  as  he  could  on  the  boards,  and  Bart, 
who  was  terribly  benumbed  and  chilled  from  long  ex- 
posure to  the  cold  water,  held  him  thus  while  he  rested. 

"It  was  too  much  for  you,  old  man!"  he  said  con- 
solingly. 

"I  had  to  try  it!"  was  Merriwell's  answer. 

"The  fog  is  shutting  down  again,"  said  Bart. 

"But  it  won't  stay  down.  The  sea  looked  red  out  to- 
ward the  west.  I  think  it  will  clear  away  to-night." 

He  was  in  no  mood  to  say  more..  And  the  raft  drifted 
on,  while  the  gray  fog  settled  round  them,  and  its  chill 
and  gloominess  seemed  to  go  to  their  very  hearts. 

But  as  Merriwell  had  predicted,  the  fog  lifted  again, 
and  at  the  end  of  another  hour  of  an  experience  as  terri- 
ble as  either  had  ever  been  called  to  undergo,  the  gray 
bank  again  swung  up  toward  the  sky.  The  sun  was  sink- 
ing redly  into  the  sea,  and  night  was  at  hand — and  what 
night  might  mean  in  their  weakened  and  chilled  condi- 
tion, adrift  on  the  great  ocean  toward  which  they  seemed 
to  be  so  resistlessly  borne,  they  dared  not  think. 

"The  sloop!"  Bart  cried,  rousing  himself. 


262    The  Mystery  of  the  Fishing-sloop. 

Merriwell  lifted  himself  and  looked.  It  was  the  sloop, 
sure  enough.  A  little  to  the  southward  of  east,  with 
its  dingy  sails  furled  and  their  bulging  shapes  turned  to 
great  lumps  of  gold,  with  the  mast  standing  out  in  dark 
tracery  against  the  red  skyline,  lay  the  fishing-sloop. 

"It's  the  same!"  Merry  exclaimed. 

"Sure!     There  can't  be  any  doubt  about  it" 

"And  she  has  cast  anchor." 

"What  does  that  mean?" 

"She  is  a  fishing-sloop,  and  I've  an  idea  we  must  be 
on  the  fishing-grounds  off  the  Jersey  or  New  York  coast. 
There  is  no  other  explanation.  She  is  out  here  on  a  fish- 
ing-trip." 

"And  Inza?" 

"We'll  have  to  wait  for  her  to  clear  that  mystery  away." 

"What  will  we  do?  If  those  fellows  are  deaf,  there 
is  no  use  in  shouting." 

"We  are  drifting  toward  her,  you  see.  We'll  be  along- 
side before  dark,  if  this  continues." 

"Then  we'll  get  on  board  of  her !" 

"And  we'll  find  out  a  few  things,  if  we  have  to  knock 
those  fellows  on  the  head." 

The  thought  was  so  exhilarating  that  the  warm  blood 
was  again  driven  through  their  veins,  and  the  numbness 
seemed  in  a  measure  to  go  out  of  their  chilled  bodies. 
Nothing  is  so  reviving  as  hope.  And  hope  was  theirs 
again.  The  raft  drifted  so  slowly  and  Bart  was  so  eageo 


The  Mystery  of  the  Fishing-sloop.    263 

that  he  wanted  to  leap  into  the  sea  and  swim  to  the 
vessel. 

"Let  us  save  our  strength,"  was  Merriwell's  advice. 
"We  are  going  straight  there.  We  will  probably  need 
all  the  strength  we  have." 

"I  see  only  one  man.  He  is  pottering  about  near  the 
cabin." 

"The  other  is  aboard  somewhere.  And  you  noticed 
that  dog?  If  he  puts  up  a  fight,  too,  I've  an  idea  that 
he  will  be  worse  than  either  of  the  men." 

The  progress  of  the  little  raft  was  tantalizingly  slow, 
but  it  moved  steadily,  and  after  the  sun  had  set  and 
while  the  darkness  was  gathering  on  that  great  expanse 
of  water,  it  swung  close  in  under  the  stern  of  the  sloop. 
Not  a  sound  was  heard  aboard  of  her  as  she  lazily  lifted 
and  rolled  on  the  heaving  swell. 

Frank  took  his  shoes  in  one  hand,  but  thought  it  not 
well  to  burden  himself  with  the  extra  coat. 

"Now !"  he  whispered.  "Let  the  raft  go.  We  can  cut 
that  boat  loose  if  we  have  to  trust  to  the  sea  again.  Fol- 
low me!" 

Then  he  slipped  silently  into  the  sea,  Hodge  imitating- 
his  example.  Softly  swimming  round  to  the  bow,  Frank 
got  hold  of  a  chain  that  ran  down  from  the  bowsprit. 

"Here,"  he  softly  whispered.  "Lay  hold  of  this,  and 
come  right  up  after  me." 

"I'll  be  there!"  Hodge  whispered  back. 

Then,  hampered  by  the  shoes,  Merry  climbed  slowly 


264    The  Mystery  of  the  Fishing-sloop. 

aboard,  and  Bart  swung  up  after  him.  Together  they 
dropped  to  the  deck,  and  crouched  low,  with  the  water 
running  in  rivulets  from  their  clothing. 

Frank  felt  softly  about,  and  his  hands  fell  on  a  club- 
like  maul  which  fishermen  use  for  stunning  the  large  fish 
they  catch.  There  was  nothing  else  near  in  the  shape  of 
a  weapon.  He  passed  the  maul  to  Bart,  and  clutched  one 
of  the  shoes  as  a  club  in  his  right  hand. 

"Good  luck!"  he  softly  whispered.     "How  are  you?" 

Hodge  was  chilled  to  the  bone,  and  his  teeth  were  fairly 
chattering. 

"I'm  all  right.  A  bit  chilly,  but  I  guess  things  will  be 
warm  enough  for  me  in  a  few  minutes.  I'm  ready.  Go 
on!" 

A  dark  form  was  standing  beside  the  cuddy.  But  for 
his  certainty  that  the  men  were  deaf,  or  nearly  so,  Merri- 
well  would  not  have  indulged  in  even  this  whispered  con- 
versation. He  crept  now  toward  this  man,  with  Hodge 
crawling  at  his  heels,  and  when  near  enough,  leaped  on 
the  man  with  a  sudden  and  disconcerting  pounce. 

Though  the  surprise  must  have  been  great,  the  man, 
who  was  large  and  strong,  wheeled  round  to  resist  the 
attack,  and  the  large  dog,  which  had  before  been  seen, 
sprang  up  from  the  deck  and  flew  at  Merriwell's  throat. 
The  ready  club  in  the  hands  of  Bart  Hodge  tumbled  the 
dog  over  with  a  howl,  and  Merry  and  the  big  fisherman 
began  to  struggle  in  the  growing  darkness  for  the  mas- 
tery. 


The  Mystery  of  the  Fishing-sloop.    265 

To  and  fro  on  the  deck  they  reeled.  The  dog  leaped 
up  again  and  tried  to  come t  to  the  assistance  of  its  mas- 
ter, but  turned  upon  Hodge  when  he  struck  at  it  again 
with  the  maul.  Its  eyes  seemed  balls  of  green  fire  in  the 
gloom,  and  the  hoarse  growl  that  came  from  deep  down 
in  its  throat  was  anything  but  pleasant  to  hear. 

But  Bart  Hodge  met  its  onset  with  a  stout  heart,  rain- 
ing his  blows  with  such  swiftness  and  precision  that  it 
dropped  to  the  deck.  Then  he  hurried  to  the  assistance 
of  Merriwell.  But  Frank  was  already  the  victor.  Though 
the  man  had  the  strength  of  an  ox,  he  had  not  Merriwell's 
science  and  skill  in  fighting,  and  Frank  had  not  only 
knocked  the  breath  out  of  him,  but  had  hurled  him  to 
the  deck. 

"That  rope,  Bart !  It  is  right  here.  I  tripped  over  it 
Tie  him!" 

A  cry  followed  this — a  cry  from  Inza.  She  rushed  out 
of  the  cuddy  door,  and  after  her  sprang  a  man  with  a 
lighted  lantern. 

Hodge  faced  toward  this  man,  intending  to  fell  him 
with  the  club. 

"Frank!  Frank!"  Inza  cried.  "I  knew  you  would 
come,  Frank!" 

Then  she  noticed  the  uplifted  club. 

"Don't  strike  him,  Bart!" 

She  threw  herself  between  Hodge  and  the  man  with 
the  lantern.  Merriwell  was  still  holding  down  the  man 
he  had  conquered. 


266    The  Mystery  of  the  Fishing-sloop. 

"What  is  it?"  he  questioned,  looking  up  and  trying  to 
read  Inza's  meaning  by  the  light  of  the  lantern. 

"The  men  are  deaf!"  said  Inza.  "They  rescued  me 
from  a  piece  of  boat,  to  which  I  clung  after  the  collision !" 

The  man  with  the  lantern  seemed  about  to  spring 
upon  Frank  in  spite  of  Hodge's  threatening  club.  Inza 
touched  him  on  the  arm. 

"Friends !"  she  screamed,  in  an  endeavor  to  make  hi» 
hear. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
INZA'S  STORY. 

The  man  did  not  hear  Inza,  but  he  felt  the  touch,  and, 
turning  quickly  about,  caught  something  of  her  mean- 
ing in  her  manner.  The  deaf  are  wonderfully  quick  in 
such  things.  He  made  a  horrible  grimace  and  pointed  at 
Merriwell.  Again  she  laid  a  hand  restrainingly  on  his 
shoulder. 

"Let  the  man  up,  Frank,"  she  urged.  "The  fellows 
are  harmless  enough,  but  they  are  as  deaf  as  adders !" 

"Look  out  for  the  dog!"  Frank  warned. 

The  dog,  which  had  crawled  away  in  a  seemingly  dy- 
ing condition,  had  struggled  again  to  its  feet  and  ap- 
peared to  be  meditating  another  attack  on  Hodge. 

"I've  got  an  eye  on  him,"  Hodge  called  back.  "Look 
out  for  your  man!" 

Merriwell  released  the  fellow  he  had  overthrown,  and 
the  man  climbed  dazedly  and  sullenly  to  his  feet.  Inza 
hurried  toward  him,  shrieking  and  making  motions  with 
her  hands.  The  man  did  not  understand  her.  It  began 
to  seem  that  both  of  them  contemplated  an  attack  on 
Bart  and  Merry. 

"Wait  a  minute!"  she  cried.  "Don't  strike  them, 
Frank,  Bart,  if  you  can  help  it  1" 


268  Inza's  Story. 

"I  think  I'm  awake,"  growled  Hodge,  as  if  he  wanted 
to  pinch  himself  to  make  sure  of  it. 

The  scene  was  certainly  a  strange  one — as  strange  as 
if  taken  from  a  comic  opera.  The  fishing-sloop  rock- 
ing on  the  long  swell,  the  dog  cowed  and  uncertain,  one 
deaf  man  doubtingly  flashing  the  lantern  in  the  face  of 
Bart  Hodge,  and  the  other  swaying  unsteadily  on  his 
feet,  as  if  he  contemplated  making  a  blind  rush  at  Merri- 
well.  In  less  than  a  minute  Inza  reappeared  from  the 
cuddy.  She  held  in  her  hand  a  piece  of  paper  on  which 
she  had  hastily  written  some  explanatory  sentences.  This 
she  thrust  beneath  the  nose  of  the  man  who  held  the 
lantern. 

The  effect  was  magical.  The  lantern  came  down, 
something  that  sounded  like  an  attempt  at  words  gurgled 
in  his  throat,  and  he  made  a  signal  to  the  other  fisher- 
man, whose  attitude  also  changed  instantly. 

"It's  all  right  now !"  Inza  laughed,  though  the  laugh 
sounded  a  bit  hysterical. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  that  it  is !"  said  Merriwell.  "But  an 
explanation  would  be  comfortable." 

"These  men  rescued  me  from  the  piece  of  broken  boat 
to  which  I  was  clinging,"  Inza  hastily  explained.  "I 
was  knocked  overboard  by  the  collision.  They  are  fish- 
ermen, and  are  now  anchored  on  their  fishing-grounds." 

"So  I  see.  But  what  about  one  of  them  chasing  you, 
when  you  ran  out  of  the  cuddy  this  afternoon?  You 
tried  to  jump  overboard!" 


Inza's  Story.  269 

"The  men  both  thought  me  deranged  by  what  I  had 
passed  through,  and  I  suppose  I  may  have  acted  strange. 
I  saw  you  and  Bart  on  the  raft,  and  I  tried  to  make  the 
men  see  you.  But  they  thought  I  was  going  to  jump 
overboard,  and  I  was  carried  bodily  into  the  cuddy  and 
locked  in.  I  didn't  know  at  the  time  that  they  could 
read  writing,  or  I  should  have  tried  that;  though  I  was 
kept  locked  in  the  cuddy  so  long  that  it  would  have  done 
no  good !" 

Then  she  began  to  motion  to  the  men ;  and  one  of  the 
fellows  came  toward  Bart  in  a  sheepish  way  and  held 
out  a  hand.  Bart  hesitated  about  taking  it,  fearing  a 
trick ;  but  the  man's  intentions  were  honest.  Having 
made  this  advance,  the  way  to  an  understanding  was  so 
fully  paved  that  within  less  than  ten  minutes  thereafter 
both  Frank  and  Hodge,  having  wrung  out  their  clothing 
in  a  contracted  place  below  deck,  were  warming  them- 
selves and  trying  to  get  dry  by  the  cuddy  stove,  while 
Inza  was  rattling  on  with  the  story  of  her  adventures. 

"I  really  don't  know  yet  whether  I  am  awake  or  dream- 
ing!" said  Bart.  "This  abcut  knocks  everything  I  have 
ever  seen!" 

"Just  fishermen,"  said  Inza.  ''They  would  have  picked 
you  up,  no  doubt,  if  they  had  seen  you — they  couldn't 
hear  you ;  or  if  I  had  been  able  to  make  them  see  you. 
It  must  have  been  an  hour  or  more  after  that  when  I 
found  that  they  had  writing-material  in  the  little  desk 
over  there,  and  1  wrote  them  a  note.  But  the  fog  was 


270  Inza's  Story. 

so  thick  then  that  it  was  no  use  for  them  to  make  a 
search." 

"Why  didn't  they  run  back  to  New  York  with  you?" 

"Simply  because  they  thought  they  had  done  their  duty 
by  me,  and  that  it  would  pay  them  better  to  come  out  to 
the  fishing-grounds  and  take  me  in  on  their  return.  I 
promised  them  money,  but " 

She  laughingly  held  up  a  little  purse. 

"I  had  just  ten  cents  in  that,  and  you  see  I  couldn't 
convince  them  of  the  fabulous  wealth  of  my  father  and 
my  friends  by  exhibiting  that.  They  said  they  woul'd 
take  me  when  they  went  in,  and  I  could  not  get  anything 
else  out  of  them." 

"Perhaps  a  little  money — as  much  or  more  than  they 
can  make  out  of  this  fishing-trip — will  induce  them  to 
take  us  right  in.  That  is,  as  soon  as  the  wind  rises. 
We're  not  only  anchored,  but  we're  becalmed  now." 

Frank  was  thinking  of  Elsie  and  of  the  others  who 
had  been  on  the  Merry  Seas.  His  heart  was  aching  with 
anxiety.  Bart  and  Inza  were  scarcely  less  distressed. 

The  cabin  or  "cuddy,"  which  had  been  surrendered  to 
them  by  the  fishermen  who  were  now  outside,  was  a 
diminutive  place,  smelling  unpleasantly  of  fish  and  burnt 
grease.  On  two  sides  were  bunks.  Near  the  center  was 
the  rusty  stove  about  which  the  three  friends  were  gath- 
ered. Its  heat  caused  their  wet  clothing  to  emit  a  cloud 
of  steam.  At  one  side  was  the  writing-desk,  fashioned 
by  clumsy  hands,  and  scattered  about  was  a  miscellane- 


Inza's  Story.  271 

Ois  assortment  of  odds  and  ends,  consisting  of  sea-boots 
and  oilskin  coats,  nets,  and  fishing-tackle. 

"Not  a  ladies'  parlor,"  Inza  admitted,  glancing  about 
"But  I  tell  you  I  was  glad  to  get  into  it." 

"And  you  don't  know  anything  about  the  people  on  the 
Merry  Seas?"  Frank  asked. 

A  look  of  pain  swept  across  the  dark,  handsome  face. 

"Not  a  thing!  I  am  worried  to  death  about  all  of 
them,  especially  father.  But  I  hope  for  the  best.  If 
any  others  went  overboard,  the  tug  was  right  there  to 
pick  them  up,  and  we  can  believe,  until  we  know  other- 
wise, that  it  did.  We  have  been  so  very  fortunate  our- 
selves !" 

"More  than  fortunate !"  Merry  observed,  with  a  thank- 
ful heart.  "Now,  if  we  can  only  get  to  the  city  without 
delay!  Call  in  the  fishermen  and  perhaps  an  offer  of 
money  can  do  something.  If  not,  we  can  capture  the 
sloop  and  take  it  in  ourselves !" 

"But  there  is  no  breeze,"  Bart  reminded. 

"That  is  so.  But  call  in  the  fishermen.  We  may  get 
some  opinions  out  of  them." 

Jabez  and  Peleg  Slocnm,  the  deaf-mute  owners  of  the 
fishing-sloop  Sarah  Jane,  of  Sea  Cove,  New  Jersey,  were 
what  one  might  call  "queer  ducks" ;  a  thing  not  so  much 
to  be  wondered  at  when  the  fact  that  they  had  been  deaf 
and  dumb  from  infancy  is  taken  into  consideration,  with 
the  further  fact  that  the  greater  part  of  their  fifty  odd 
years  had  been  spent  in  the  lonely  and  precarious  calling 


272  Inza's  Story. 

of  Atlantic  fishermen.  They  were  rough  and  gnarled 
and  cross-grained,  like  the  sloop  whose  deck  they  trod; 
yet,  in  spite  of  all,  like  that  same  sloop,  they  had  some 
good  qualities. 

To  them  fishing  was  the  end  and  aim  of  existence. 
Hence,  as  soon  as  Merriwell,  with  the  aid  of  pencil  and 
paper,  began  to  talk  of  being  taken  straight  to  New 
York,  the  fishermen  shook  their  heads.  They  had  work 
to  do  out  there  on  the  fishing-banks.  It  was  probable 
they  reasoned  that  it  was  not  their  fault  that  these  young 
people  had  fallen  in  their  way.  They  had  dutifully  res- 
cued them  from  watery  graves — or,  in  the  case  of  Hodge 
and  Merriwell — had  permitted  them  to  rescue  them- 
selves. And  thus,  whatever  obligation  they  may  have 
been  under  as  fellow  human  beings  had  been  fully  dis- 
charged. They  did  not  want  Merriwell's  money — and 
they  certainly  did  not  desire  to  run  to  New  York.  It  was 
not  their  habit  to  visit  New  York.  Sea  Cove  was  their 
home,  and,  whenever  they  pulled  up  their  rusty  anchor 
for  a  run  from  the  banks,  they  returned  to  Sea  Cove  in- 
variably, unless  blown  out  of  their  latitutde  by  a  storm, 
as  sometimes  happened. 

Finally  one  of  them  wrote: 

"See  in  morning." 

"And  now  we'll  have  something  to  eat!"  Inza  de- 
clared. "Both  of  you  are  famished.  You  are  getting 
thawed  out  and  dry,  and  if  your  stomachs  are  strong 
enough  to  stand  the  odor  of  things,  I'll  go  ahead  and  get 


Inza's  Story.  273 

some  supper  for  you.  I  know  where  everything  is  in 
the — what  do  you  call  it? — locker?  Peleg,  that's  the 
taller  one,  showed  me." 

"Peleg  must  be  sweet  on  you,"  remarked  Frank,  laugh- 
ing. 

She  picked  up  a  "spider"  and  shook  it  at  him. 

"Don't  trouble  the  cook,  Mr.  Merriwell,  if  you  expect 
to  get  anything  to  eat!" 

"I  was  just  going  to  remark  that  I  admired  his  taste. 
He  is  a  man  of  most  excellent  judgment!" 

"How  is  your  taste,  Mr.  Hodge  ?"  Inza  calmly  queried. 
"Do  you  think  you  can  eat  fish?" 

"I  could  eat  a  whale.  I'll  gobble  up  this  fish-basket 
pretty  soon  if  you  don't  hurry  and  serve  something." 

"Very  well.  Fish-baskets  on  toast.  There  are  fish 
in  a  box  back  there.  And  there  are  crackers  in  this 
box.  And  over  there  I  found  some  pretty  nice  canned 
goods." 

Merriwell  smiled.  Inza's  manner  was  like  a  break  of 
sunshine. 

"Your  talk  makes  me  simply  ravenous." 

That  they  were  ravenous  they  showed  when  they  fell 
to  on  the  supper  which  Inza  prepared  as  best  she  could 
from  the  materials  available.  There  were  many  things 
that  might  have  been  improved.  They  might  have  gone 
out  on  the  deck,  for  one  thing,  but  the  wet  fog  had  come 
down  again,  with  a  chill  that  went  to  the  bones — a  chill 


274  Inza's  Story. 

that  was  simply  horrible  to  Frank  and  Bart  in  the  damp 
condition  in  which  their  clothing  still  remained. 

The  fishermen  did  not  seem  to  mind  the  fog,  however, 
but  walked  the  deck  and  smoked,  garbed  in  oilskins  and 
sou' westers.  They  talked,  too,  by  signaling  to  each  other 
with  their  hands.  Merry,  Hodge,  and  Inza  sat  up  until 
a  late  hour,  going  over  and  over  again  all  the  points  of  the 
day's  experience,  with  the  many  conjectures  and  unan- 
swerable questions  which  grew  out  of  it. 

The  fact  that  the  sloop  belonged  in  Sea  Cove,  the  vil- 
lage near  which,  according  to  the  newspaper  report,  Bar- 
ney Mulloy  was  killed,  was  a  matter  of  intense  interest, 
even  though  the  fishermen  could  in  no  wise  enlighten 
them  on  the  subject  of  Barney's  murder.  Frank  con- 
tinued to  hope  that  a  breeze  would  spring  up,  and  that 
he  could  induce  the  Slocums,  by  a  liberal  money  offer,  to 
set  him  and  his  friends  ashore  at  the  nearest  point  with- 
out delay.  In  the  event  of  a  refusal,  the  temptation  to 
take  the  vessel  in  himself  would  have  been  strong,  but  he 
knew  that  such  a  course  would  hardly  do  in  these  modern 
days.  It  smacked  too  much  of  piracy.  Money  was  the 
lever  he  hoped  to  use,  and  when  the  breeze  came  he  in- 
tended to  make  the  lever  sufficiently  strong  to  move  even 
these  placid  souls. 

But  the  breeze  did  not  come.  The  fog  seemed  to 
grow  thicker  and  damper.  At  length  weariness  over- 
came the  whole  party.  Then  Inza  was  left  in  full  pos- 
session of  the  cuddy,  while  Hodge  and  Frank  crept  into 


Inza's  Story.  275 

a  narrow  sleeping-place  forward  which  Jabez  Slocum 
pointed  out  to  them.  As  for  the  fishermen  themselves, 
they  seemed  content  to  stretch  out  under  a  tarpaulin  on 
deck;  and  the  Sarah  Jane,  with  lights  set  to  show  her 
position,  though  they  could  not  have  been  seen  a  dozen 
feet  distant,  rocked  sleepily  in  the  fog  at  the  end  of  her 
cable. 

When  morning  dawned,  the  fog  rolled  away  under 
the  influence  of  a  brilliant  sun,  showing  an  attractive 
sight.  Other  fishing-boats,  big  and  little,  were  rising 
and  falling  on  the  swell.  To  the  northward  a  steamer, 
outward  bound,  trailed  from  her  triple  funnels  banners  of 
black  smoke.  From  the  southward  a  "fruiter,"  as  the 
vessels  bringing  fruit  from  the  West  Indies  are  called, 
came  bravely  up  the  coast.  There  were  other  vessels — 
schooners,  barks,  sloops,  and  the  coast  itself  was  visible 
as  a  blue  line.  Finally,  one  of  the  Slocum  brothers  came 
to  Merriwell  and  held  out  a  scrap  of  paper.  Frank 
glanced  at  it,  and  read,  in  an  almost  illegible  scrawl: 
"Sea  Cove." 

"They  will  take  us  to  Sea  Cove !"  Inza  explained. 

"New   York  City,"   Merry  wrote. 

The  deaf-mate  shook  his  head  and  again  pointed  to  the 
name  "Sea  Cove." 

"What's  the  odds?"  said  Bart.  "There  is  a  railway 
there,  and  no  doubt  boats  running  to  New  York.  And 
then  it  will  give  us  an  opportunity  to  investigate  the 


276  inza's  Story. 

murder  of  poor  Barney  a  little.     By  to-night  we  can  be 
in  New  York,  if  all  goes  well !" 

"Put  us  aboard  the  fruiter  or  some  steamer,"  Frank 
again  wrote. 

But  the  man  shook  his  head. 

"It  is  Sea  Cove  or  nothing,"  said  Inza.  "And  he  would 
be  glad,  I  think,  to  have  it  nothing." 

"Sea  Cove  it  is,  then,"  Frank  agreed. 

But  the  promise  was  productive  of  no  immediate  good. 
There  was  no  breeze,  and,  as  the  Sarah  Jane  was  on  the 
shallow  banks,  far  out  of  the  route  of  the  steamers,  there 
was  nothing  to  do  but  to  cultivate  patience  and  wait.  At 
Frank's  urging,  Peleg  set  a  signal  from  the  masthead,  but 
it  drew  no  vessel  near  them. 

The  Slocums  seemed  glad  that  they  were  not  to  be 
called  on  to  sail  at  once  for  land,  and  they  proceeded  to 
get  out  long  hand-lines  and  fish  over  the  sides  of  the 
sloop.  Wherever  they  went  they  were  followed  by  their 
dog,  that  limped  from  the  blows  Bart  had  given  it.  The 
dog  would  not  make  friends  with  the  newcomers,  but 
showed  its  teeth  in  a  threatening  way  whenever  Bart  or 
Frank  came  near.  Finally  Merriwell  and  his  friends  also 
engaged  in  the  fishing  to  kill  time,  and  with  considerable 
success.  Thus  the  day  wore  wearily  along  until  well  into 
the  afternoon. 

"A  breeze !"  Frank  gleefully  exclaimed  at  last,  holding 
up  a  hand.  "The  wind  is  coming !  I  feel  that  if  this  old 


Inza's  Story.  277 

boat  doesn't  get  a  move  on  soon,  I  shall  have  to  jump 
overboard  and  swim  ashore." 

"Well,  I  should  hope  you  would  take  me  on  your 
back !"  Inza  observed,  her  voice  thrilled  with  the  thought 
that  the  long-expected  breeze  was  actually  coming.  "I'm 
as  frantic  as  any  one  can  be  to  put  foot  on  land  and 
learn  what  has  happened  to  our  friends  and  to  father !" 

The  Slocums  were  ready  to  go  home  now,  and  as  the 
breeze  rapidly  increased  in  strength  and  gave  evidence  of 
having  come  to  stay,  they  speedily  got  the  Sarah  Jane 
under  way,  with  the  help  of  Frank  and  Bart,  and  stood 
off  for  the  Jersey  shore.  Frank  was  now  perfectly  will- 
ing that  they  should  run  to  Sea  Cove  direct,  for  a  little 
thought  and  some  questions  put  to  the  Slocums  had 
shown  him  that  he  could  reach  New  York  from  there  by 
wire,  and  by  rail  from  a  point  near-by,  and  he  could  take 
a  little  time  to  investigate  the  Barney  Mulloy  affair. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE    GHOST   OF   BARNEY    MULLOY. 

"Another  calm !"  Bart  growled,  in  disgust.  Night  was 
approaching,  and  the  Sarah  Jane  lay  becalmed  a  mile  from 
shore  and  nearly  ten  miles  from  Sea  Cove.  The  shore, 
high  and  sandy,  was  plainly  visible,  with  pretty  cot- 
tages among  some  trees  a  short  distance  back  from  the 
edge  of  the  water.  The  Slocums  had  a  good  glass,  which 
brought  all  this  out  with  much  distinctness. 

"If  we  could  just  draw  the  land  near  enough  with 
that  glass  to  jump  ashore!"  Inza  sighed. 

"I've  a  plan  almost  as  good,"  said  Frank. 

This  plan  was  to  have  the  Slocums  set  them  ashore  in 
the  dory.  By  a  little  questioning  in  writing,  they  learned 
from  the  fishermen  that  the  group  of  cottages  was  Glen 
Springs,  and  that  there  was  a  telegraph-office  there  and 
a  daily  visit  by  a  small  steamer  from  New  York,  but  no 
railway.  This  increased  their  anxiety  to  be  set  ashore  at 
Glen  Springs,  for  by  putting  themselves  in  telegraphic 
communication  with  New  York  they  could  ascertain  with- 
out delay  of  the  fate  of  the  Merry  Seas  and  of  her  pas- 
sengers. 

For  a  small  financial  consideration  the  Slocums  were 
willing  to  put  Merriwell  and  his  friends  ashore  in  the 


The  Ghost  of  Barney  Mulloy.        279 

dory;  which  was  done  by  Peleg,  who  pulled  a  good, 
strong  stroke,  and  sent  the  clumsy  boat  through  the  water 
at  a  surprising  rate  of  speed. 

"Attack  the  telegraph-office  first,"  Inza  suggested.  A 
telegram  to  New  York  brought  this  answer: 

"Merry  Seas  towed  in  considerably  injured.  Missing 
are  Frank  Merriwell,  Bart  Hodge,  Inza  Burrage.  Other 
passengers  landed  safely.  Bernard  Burrage  at  Hotel  Im- 
perial." 

Bart  threw  up  his  cap.  Merriwell  was  writing  another 
message,  directed  to  Bernard  Burrage,  assuring  him  of 
the  safety  of  Inza  and  asking  that  this  fact  and  the  fact 
that  he  and  Bart  were  also  safe  be  communicated  at  once 
to  their  friends  at  the  hotel  and  elsewhere. 

"That  will  fix  things  up  all  right,"  he  remarked,  as  the 
operator  began  to  click  off  the  message.  "Of  course,  we 
can't  know  all  the  particulars  until  later;  but  it  is  enough 
to  know  that  none  of  our  friends  are  lost,  and  to  be  able 
to  let  them  know  that  we  are  all  right." 

"You  bet !"  Bart  cried.  "This  is  great !  I  was  mighty 
anxious,  I  tell  you." 

"And  I  was  simply  crazy!"  Inza  exclaimed. 

The  relief  to  their  feelings  was  so  great  that  the  hard- 
ships of  their  recent  experience  seemed  to  be  at  once  for- 
gotten, and  they  became  almost  happy.  They  could  not 
be  quite  happy,  for  the  news  of  the  murder  of  Barney 
Mulloy  still  cast  its  shadow. 


280        The  Ghost  of  Barney  Mulloy. 

"When  does  the  next  boat  leave  for  New  York  ?"  Frank 
asked  of  the  operator. 

"To-morrow  noon." 

"We  can  drive  through  to  Sea  Cove?" 

"Yes." 

"And  when  does  a  train  leave  Sea  Cove  ?" 

"To-morrow  at  six-forty-five  and  ten-thirty." 

As  they  were  very  tired,  it  was  decided,  therefore,  that 
they  would  remain  in  Glen  Springs  until  early  the  next 
morning,  when  they  would  drive  to  Sea  Cove,  make  in- 
quiries there  about  Barney,  and  take  the  ten-thirty  train. 
The  hotel  at  Glen  Springs  was  small,  but  it  looked  clean 
and  inviting. 

"What  do  you  know  about  the  murder  of  a  young 
Irishman  named  Barney  Mulloy,  by  tramps  near  Sea 
Cove,  day  before  yesterday?"  Merry  inquired. 

"Only  what  the  papers  said,"  was  the  operator's  an- 
swer. 

"And  no  one  else  in  the  village  can  tell  us?" 

"I  think  not." 

The  hotel  was  in  the  suburbs,  having  a  view  of  the 
sea,  and  was  really  a  summer  hotel  more  than  anything 
else.  It  had  very  few  guests  as  yet.  From  it  a  number 
of  messages  were  sent  to  New  York  and  received  from 
there  by  our  friends  that  evening — messages  from  Elsie 
and  Mr.  Burrage.  and  from  other  members  of  the  party 
that  had  been  on  the  Merry  Seas. 


The  Ghost  of  Barney  Mulloy.        281 

Though  fairly  tired  out  by  his  exhausting  experiences, 
from  which  the  long  hours  on  the  fishing-sloop  had  not 
enabled  him  to  recuperate,  Frank  Merriwell  was  not  able 
to  sleep  until  a  late  hour.  His  thoughts  were  of  Barney 
Mulloy.  In  memory  he  traveled  the  round  of  the  Far- 
dale  days.  The  death  of  Mulloy  in  that  terrible  manner 
had  upset  him  more  than  he  had  realized.  He  had  not 
felt  it  so  much  during  his  exciting  experiences  and  while 
weighted  down  with  anxiety  concerning  the  fate  of  the 
Merry  Seas. 

"I  just  can't  sleep!"  he  muttered,  seating  himself  at 
last  by  a  window  and  looking  out  toward  the  sea,  along 
a  greensward  on  which  the  moonlight  fell  lovingly. 
"Poor  Barney !  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  gone  on  to  Sea 
Cove  and  begun  my  investigations  at  once.  But  Inza  was 
so  tired.  She  has  held  up  bravely,  dear  girl,  through  it 
all,  but  this  evening  she  looked  ready  to  drop.  I  felt  that 
we  ought  not  to  go  on  until  she  was  rested.  She  will 
sleep  well  now,  since  she  knows  that  her  father  is  safe." 

Something  dark  moved  among  the  shadows,  and  a  fa- 
miliar form  approached.  Merriwell  started  up  with  a  lows 
cry: 

"Barney  Mulloy!" 

He  saw  the  young  Irishman  as  plainly  as  he  had  ever 
seen  him.  The  face,  though,  was  white  and  bloodless. 
The  ghostly  figure  moved  with  a  heavy  step,  coming 
straight  up  the  walk  toward  the  building.  Frank  sat 
rooted  to  his  chair.  In  the  shadow  of  the  piazza,  the 


282        The  Ghost  of  Barney  Mulloy. 

figure  seemed  to  turn,  and  was  then  lost  to  view.  Merri- 
well  threw  up  the  window. 

"Barney!"  he  softly  called.  "Barney — Barney  Mul- 
loy!" 

The  only  answer  that  came  back  was  a  slow  and  heavy 
tread,  that  seemed  to  come  from  a  corridor  opening  out 
upon  the  walk  along  which  Barney  had  come. 

Tramp,  tramp,  tramp ! 

The  footsteps  sounded  with  great  distinctness.  Merri- 
well  threw  open  the  door  of  his  room  leading  out  into 
this  corridor.  The  light  of  the  lamp  flooded  the  corridor, 
and  he  was  able  to  view  it  from  end  to  end.  He  could 
have  sworn  that  the  footsteps  were  just  beyond  his  door. 
But  the  corridor  was  absolutely  empty.  And  the  foot- 
steps had  ceased. 

Frank  whistled  softly  to  himself.  He  was  not  super- 
stitious, but  this  was  rather  shaking  to  the  nerves.  He 
hurried  back  to  the  window  and  looked  out  upon  the 
walk  and  down  the  moon-lighted  sward.  No  sound  came, 
save  the  dashing  of  the  surf.  He  leaped  through  the 
open  window  and  proceeded  to  inspect  the  grounds  in 
that  vicinity.  The  ghostly  form  had  vanished. 

"Hodge !"  he  called.     "Hodge !    Come  out  here." 

Hodge,  who  occupied  an  adjacent  room,  and  who  had 
been  asleep,  threw  up  a  window  and  looked  out. 

"Yes,"  he  said.  "As  soon  as  I  can  slip  into  myt 
clothes.  What  is  it,  Merry?" 


The  Ghost  of  Barney  Mulloy.        283 

"I  don't  know,"  Frank  confessed.  "I  wish  I  did 
know." 

"Of  course,  there  are  no  such  things  as  ghosts,"  he 
declared,  when  Bart  joined  him.  "But  if  ever  a  man  saw 
one,  I  did  just  now — the  ghost  of  Barney  Mulloy !" 

Hodge  stared  at  his  friend  as  if  wondering  if  Frank's 
mind  was  not  affected. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Just  what  I  have  said  to  you.  I  saw  an  apparition  that 
resembled  Barney  Mulloy.  And  I  not  only  saw  it,  but  I 
heard  it.  It  came  right  along  here,  and  turned  in  there, 
and  then  I  heard  it  in  the  corridor.  I  threw  open  the  cor- 
ridor door  before  any  one  could  have  got  out  of  there, 
and  the  corridor  was  empty!" 

"You  must  have  been  dreaming!" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,  Bart.  I  hadn't  gone  to  bed.  I  haven't 
been  even  a  bit  sleepy.  I  was  sitting  at  my  window,  and 
I  saw  it  as  plainly  as  I  see  you." 

"You  certainly  must  have  been  dreaming,  Merry !"  Bart 
insisted.  "Have  you  looked  all  about?" 

"Everywwhere." 

Bart  walked  over  to  the  door  which  opened  from  the 
corridor  on  the  lawn.  It  was  not  locked. 

"It  couldn't  have  been  Barney,  of  course ;  but  whoever 
it  was  went  through  here  into  the  corridor." 
"And  how  did  he  get  out  of  the  corridor?" 
"Walked  on  through  into  the  office." 


284        The  Ghost  of  Barney  Mulloy. 

"The  office  is  closed.  The  landlord  and  all  the  serv- 
ants retired  long  ago." 

"Well,  it  couldn't  have  been  a  ghost !" 

"I  am  wondering  if  it  could  have  been  Barney  him- 
self?" 

"He  was — attacked  near  Sea  Cove,  not  here !" 

"I  am  going  to  rout  out  the  landlord,"  Merriwell  de- 
clared. "Perhaps  he  can  throw  some  light  on  the  sub- 
ject." 

"He  told  you,  when  you  inquired,  that  he  had  heard 
nothing  except  what  was  in  the  papers." 

"But  he  may  be  able  to  help  us  to  clear  away  this  mys- 
tery." 

When  summoned,  the  landlord  came  down  into  the  little 
office  looking  very  sleepy,  very  stupid,  and  somewhat  an- 
gry. Merriwell  told  what  he  had  seen  and  heard,  and 
repeated  the  newspaper  story  about  the  murder  of  Bar- 
ney. 

"Well,  that  was  at  Sea  Cove,"  was  the  answer. 
"Ghosts  always  come  back  to  the  place  where  the  person 
was  killed.  Why  should  it  come  here  ?  I  don't  like  this. 
If  you  tell  it,  it  will  give  my  house  a  bad  name.  No  one 
wants  to  board  in  a  haunted  house,  and  it  will  ruin  my 
summer's  business." 

"But  I  thought  you  might  help  us  to  an  explanation," 
Frank  insisted. 

The  sleepy  and  stupid  look  had  passed  away.     The 


landlord  had  once  been  a  seafaring  man,  and  he  was  a 
bit  superstitious.  Still,  he  was  not  willing  to  acknowl- 
edge that  Frank  had  beheld  something  supernatural.  He 
would  not  deny  its  possibility,  but  repeated  over  and  over 
his  belief  that  ghosts  always  return  to  the  place  of  the 
murder  and  to  no  other  place,  and  that  the  repetition  of 
the  story  would  drive  away  his  summer  boarders. 

"I  tell  him  he  was  just  dreaming,"  said  Bart. 

"Sure!"  with  a  look  of  relief.  "Of  course,  he  was 
dreaming.  There's  been  nobody  in  Glen  Springs  looking 
like  the  chap  you  describe,  and  I'm  sure  that  nobody  has 
been  walking  in  that  corridor,  'less  it  was  burglars." 

So  Frank  went  back  to  his  room,  accompanied  by  Bart. 
He  knew  that  he  had  not  been  asleep,  though,  and  he  felt 
sure  that  he  had  really  seen  and  heard  something,  and 
was  not  the  victim  of  a  hallucination.  Merriwell  sat 
down  again  by  the  open  window,  and  Bart  dropped  into 
a  chair  by  his  side. 

"If  the  thing  comes  again,  we'll  capture  it!"  said 
Hodge.  "Somebody  may  be  playing  ghost,  just  to  scare 
us.  I  have  heard " 

He  did  not  complete  the  sentence,  for  he  really  heard 
something  at  the  moment  that  stilled  the  words  on  his 
lips  and  drove  the  blood  out  of  his  face. 

Tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  tramp ! 

The  sounds  came  unmistakably  from  the  corridor. 

'There  it  is  again !"  Frank  exclaimed. 

Bart  leaped  toward  the  door  and  quickly  threw  it  open. 


286       The  Ghost  of  Barney  Mulloy. 

The  lamplight  again  streamed  out  into  the  corridor. 
But  the  sounds  had  ceased,  and  the  corridor  was  empty. 
"Hodge  stared  down  the  corridor  in  stupid  bewilderment. 

'Of  all  the  strange  things!"  he  gasped. 

"That  is  the  strangest!"  Merriwell  added.  "You 
heard  it  for  yourself  then !" 

Bart  walked  out  into  the  corridor,  peered  out  of  doors 
through  the  glass  set  in  the  side  door,  and  opened  the 
door  leading  into  the  deserted  office.  There  was  noth- 
ing to  be  seen.  When  he  came  back,  his  face  was  beaded 
with  moisture. 

"Merry,  I  wish  you'd  tell  me  the  meaning  of  that !" 

"I  wish  you  would  tell  me,  Bart!  You  thought  I  was 
dreaming,  or  fancied  that  I  saw  and  heard  something. 
You  see  now  that  you  were  mistaken." 

"Unless  I  am  dreaming  myself !" 

"You  are  perfectly  wide-awake,  Hodge,  and  so  am  I! 
There  is  a  mystery  here." 

"Never  knew  anything  like  it,"  mopping  his  face. 
"Whew!  It  brings  the  cold  sweat  out  on  me!" 

He  dropped  down  into  the  chair  by  the  window,  leaving 
the  corridor  door  open.  Nothing  further  was  heard. 

"Ghosts  don't  like  a  bright  light!"  Merry  reminded, 
smiling  grimly.  Bart  got  up,  closed  the  door,  and  sat 
down  again. 

Then  his  hair  seemed  to  stand  upright  on  his  head. 
Out  of  the  shadow  of  the  building,  near  one  of  the  angles, 
walked  the  ghostly  form  which  Merriwell  had  beheld. 


The  Ghost  of  Barney  Mulloy.        287 

Hodge  was  unable  to  speak  at  first.  Merry  noticed  his 
manner  and  the  look  in  his  staring  eyes,  and  sprang  to  the 
window.  As  he  did  so,  the  ghostly  form  vanished  into 
the  shadow,  and  again  those  steps  were  heard  in  the  cor- 
ridor. 

"If  Barney  is  dead,  that  was  his  spirit,  sure  enough !" 
Hodge  whispered,  in  an  awed  way. 

Tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  tramp ! 

The  steps  echoed  in  the  corridor.  Even  Merriwell's 
stout  heart  was  assailed  by  a  feeling  that  was  like  super- 
stitious dread. 

"It  looked  just  like  him !" 

"The  very  picture  of  him,  only  white-faced,  as  if  he 
had  just  come  out  of  the  grave !" 

Tramp,  tramp,  tramp!  sounded  the  steps  in  the  cor- 
ridor. 

"Open  the  door,  Merry,  for  God's  sake!"  Hodge 
gasped,  as  if  the  words  choked  him.  "See  if  there  isn't 
something  in  the  corridor !  There  must  be !" 

Merriwell  stepped  to  the  door  and  flung  it  open.  In- 
stantly the  sounds  ceased. 

"Somebody  is  playing  a  joke  on  us,  I  believe !"  Bart 
declared,  and  anger  came  to  drive  out  the  superstitious 
feeling  that  had  shaken  him.  "I'm  going  to  take  a  look 
round  the  house  myself,  and  if  I  find  anybody — — " 

"I'll  go  with  you!"  Merry  exclaimed,  and  both  leaped 
through  the  open  window. 

They  circled  round  the  house,  looked  down  the  paths 


288       The  Ghost  of  Barney  Mulloy. 

and  out  over  the  sward  on  which  the  moonlight  fell,  but 
not  a  form  could  they  see. 

"Give  it  up !"  Hodge  admitted.  "I  don't  know  what  to 
think." 

They  came  back  to  the  window,  and  again  they  heard 
the  footsteps  in  the  corridor.  Hodge  went  through  the 
window  at  a  flying  leap  and  hurled  open  the  corridor 
door,  only  to  again  find  silence  and  blankness. 

"The  place  is  haunted!"  he  exclaimed. 

"But  there  are  no  such  things  as  ghosts!" 

"I  know  it.  Of  course,  there  can't  be — that's  what 
I  have  always  believed.  I  have  always  fancied  that 
stories  of  ghosts  were  lies  and  foolishness,  and  I'm  not 
ready  to  back  water  on  that  belief.  But  I  can't  under- 
stand this  business." 

"Nor  I." 

"Shall  we  call  the  landlord  again?" 

"What  good  will  it  do?" 

"Shall  we  wake  Inza?" 

"And  rob  her  of  her  rest  and  fill  her  with  anxiety? 
No,  let  her  sleep.  She  needs  it." 

"Well,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  sleep  any  more  to-night." 

'And  it  looked  just  like  Barney!"  Frank  declared. 
'His  very  image !" 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THEl    PHANTOM     A  G  A  I  HF« 

Both  Merriwell  and  Hodge  were  so  sure  they  had  seen 
something  that  they  again  let  themselves  out  through  the 
window  and  made  a  search  of  the  grounds.  The  result 
was  the  same.  Not  a  moving  form  was  to  be  seen.  But 
as  they  returned  toward  the  room,  they  once  more  heard 
those  mysterious  footsteps. 

"Stop!" 

Frank  laid  a  hand  on  Bart's  arm,  and  both  stood  still 
and  listened. 

"Where  does  that  seem  to  be?" 

"Merry,  that's  coming  from  your  room !  The  thing  is 
in  your  room!" 

Hodge's  voice  shook,  in  spite  of  himself. 

Frank  dashed  toward  the  open  window.  But  before  he 
could  reach  it,  the  sounds  ceased.  When  he  looked  in, 
the  room  was  empty.  The  light  was  shining,  and  the 
door  leading  to  the  corridor  was  closed. 

"No  one  could  have  got  out  of  that  room  without  our 
knowing  it!"  Merriwell  whispered.  Hodge  had  reached 
his  side,  and  both  were  staring  into  the  room. 

"Of  course  not.     The  thing  is  impossible." 

"And  yet  those  footsteps  sounded  right  here." 

's  go  in  and  take  another  look  into  the  corridor.'* 


290  The  Phantom  Again. 

For  answer  Merry  drew  Bart  back  into  the  shadows  by 
the  window. 

"Keep  still  right  here  a  little  while.  Perhaps  the—- 
the thing  will  return.  If  some  one  is  playing  us  a  trick, 
we  may  capture  him." 

"I  should  like  to  lay  my  hands  on  the  villain!"  Bart 
hissed.  Though  they  stood  there  in  utter  silence  for  five 
minutes,  the  sounds  did  not  come  again. 

"Of  course,  there  is  some  rational  explanation  of  this," 
Merriwell  declared,  as  they  again  approached  the  win- 
dow. "There  must  be!  It  is  the  wildest  nonsense  to 
think  otherwise." 

"Well,  I  wish  that  rational  explanation  would  hurry 
this  way.  I'm  ready  for  it,  old  man !  This  thing  is 
shaking  my  nerves  all  to  pieces." 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  troubled  with  nerves !  Nerves 
are  for  hysterical  girls  and  old  women !" 

"Well,  I've  got  'em  now!  as  the  drunken  man  said 
when  he  began  to  see  snakes.  I  haven't  any  doubt 
about  it" 

Hodge  so  seldom  indulged  in  a  joke,  that  Merry  looked 
surprised.  They  had  reentered  the  room  and  he  glanced 
at  his  friend  in  wonder. 

"Likely  that — thing  will  begin  to  walk  again  pretty 
soon,"  said  Frank,  after  they  had  remained  another  min- 
ute or  so  in  a  listening  attitude.  "You  sit  here  and  watch 
by  this  window,  while  I  slip  into  the  corridor." 


The  Phantom  Again.  291 

Hodge  obediently  dropped  into  the  chair,  and  Merri- 
well  let  himself  into  the  corridor.  He  closed  the  door  af- 
ter him,  so  that  if  any  one  approached  or  entered  the 
corridor  that  person  could  not  see  him,  and  began  his 
vigil 

The  silence  was  so  great  that  he  could  hear  his  watch 
ticking  away  in  his  pocket.  It  seemed  strange  that  it 
should  run  after  its  salt-water  ducking,  but  he  reasoned 
that  probably  the  works  were  not  touched  by  the  salt 
water.  His  clothing  had  dried  long  ago,  but  he  felt  the 
need  of  a  change.  However,  he  had  taken  a  bath  since 
reaching  the  hotel,  and  so  was  in  a  measure  comfortable. 

There  was  a  great  deal  to  think  of  as  he  stood  there 
in  the  gloom,  but  the  minutes  dragged  along  like  weeks. 
This  sort  of  vigil  was  rather  nerve-trying.  He  was  sure, 
now  that  he  had  time  to  think  about  it,  that  some  very 
little  thing  might  account  for  the  mystery.  He  began  to 
think  that  the  footsteps  had  probably  been  made  by  some 
servant  or  by  a  somnambulist.  Sounds  are  very  decep- 
tive as  to  direction,  as  he  more  than  once  had  discovered. 
The  footsteps  might  have  been  at  some  distance  from  the 
corridor. 

"But  that  doesn't  explain  what  I  saw  and  what  Bart 
saw !"  he  muttered.  "I  might  have  thought  my  eyes  de- 
ceived me,  but  Bart  saw  it,  too.  That  was  either  Barney 
Mulloy,  or  some  one  who  looks  marvelously  like  him.  If 
it  was  really  Barney,  then  the  poor  fellow  is  not  dead! 
I  sincerely  hope  we  shall  find  out  that  he  was  not  killed. 


292  The  Phantom  Again. 

Perhaps  the  entire  newspaper  report  was  based  on  a  mis- 
take. The  papers  are  full  of  errors." 

The  sounds  did  not  come  again,  and  when  it  seemed  al- 
most useless  to  wait  longer  for  them,  he  returned  to  the 
room,  where  he  found  Bart  watching  silently  by  the  win- 
dow. 

"Seen  anything?"  he  asked. 

"No.     Heard  anything?" 

"Not  a  thing." 

"I  didn't  suppose  you  had,  or  I  should  have  heard  it, 
too." 

"It  will  probably  not  reappear  to-night." 

"Well,  I'm  not  in  love  with  ghosts,  but  I  have  been 
wild  to  have  the  thing  pass  along  that  walk  again.  It 
wouldn't  get  away  from  me  this  time !  I've  planned  just 
what  to  do." 

"What?" 

"I  can  reach  that  walk  in  three  jumps  from  this  win- 
dow, and  it  would  take  a  lively  ghost  to  get  away  from 
me.  I  was  going  right  out  there  the  first  glimpse  I  got 
of  it." 

"Then  you're  not  afraid  of  ghosts?"  laughed  Frank, 
for  there  was  something  amusing  in  his  companion's 
manner. 

"I  might  be,  Merry,  if  there  were  any.  But  I've  been 
thinking  as  I  sat  here.  I  know  I  saw  something,  and 
that  something  was  a  man.  He  didn't  look  so  strong 
but  that  I  could  tumble  him  over  easy  enough.  That 


The  Phantom  Again.  293 

was  my  plan,  and  then  we  could  see  who  it  is.  It 
couldn't  have  been  Barney,  for  all  it  looked  so  much 
like  him." 

As  he  spoke,  he  saw  the  ghostly  figure  again,  but  much 
farther  away.  Its  face  was  turned  toward  the  window, 
and  the  moonlight  revealed  it  plainly.  Beyond  all  ques- 
tion, it  was  the  face  of  Barney  Mulloy! 

Bart  went  through  the  open  window  at  a  bound. 

"Barney !"  he  called.     "Barney  Mulloy !" 

The  mysterious  figure  drew  quickly  back  into  the 
shrubbery  and  disappeared.  Merriwell  sprang  through 
the  open  window  after  Hodge,  and  together  they  raced 
to  the  point  where  the  figure  had  been  seen.  When  they 
got  there  they  could  discover  nothing. 

"That  was  Barney  Mulloy !"  Merriwell  asserted. 

"Sure !" 

"And  he  isn't  dead!" 

"Barney  or  his  spirit!" 

"It  was  Barney." 

"Why  didn't  he  stop  when  I  called  to  him?" 

"I  don't  know.     There  is  a  mystery  here." 

"Biggest  one  I  ever  struck,  Merry!  It  knocks  me 
silly." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
MERRIWELL'S  FRIENDS. 

The  time  was  well  on  toward  morning  before  Merri- 
well  and  Hodge  turned  in  to  try  to  get  some  sleep.  No 
more  mysterious  sounds  or  ghostly  appearances  had  been 
heard  or  seen.  The  sun  was  scarcely  up  when  they  were 
aroused  by  a  trampling  of  feet  and  the  sounds  of  well- 
known  voices  in  the  corridor.  A  rap  fell  on  Merry's 
door. 

"Arise,  ye  sleepers,  and  wake — I  mean,  awake,  ye 
sleepers,  and  rise!"  shouted  Harry  Rattleton. 

"Come  out  here  and  let  me  pull  you  out  of  bed!'* 
grunted  Bruce  Browning. 

"He  is  sleeping  like  the  sleeper  in  the  sleeper  which 
runs  over  the  sleeper  and  does  not  awaken  the  sleeper  in 
the  sleeper  which ' 

"You  give  us  that  sleepy  feeling  yourself,  Danny!" 
Bink  Stubbs  grumbled. 

Merry  tumbled  out  of  bed,  unlocked  the  door,  and 
thrust  his  head  into  the  corridor.  Before  him  were  Bruce 
and  Diamond,  Rattleton  and  Dismal  Jones,  Bink  and 
Danny,  and  through  the  half-open  door  leading  into  the 
office  he  also  caught  a  glimpse  of  Elsie  Bellwood  and 
(Bernard  Burrage. 


Merriwell's   Friends.  295 

"Glad  to  see  you !"  he  cried.  "Where  did  you  tumble 
from?" 

Bart  had  his  door  open  now,  and  began  to  ask  ques- 
tions. 

"I'll  be  out  in  a  minute,"  Frank  promised,  and  began 
to  dress  with  the  speed  of  a  lightning-change  artist.  A 
little  later  Merriwell's  entire  party  gathered  in  the  hotel 
office,  for  Inza  had  been  awakened  and  joined  them. 

Mutual  explanations  flew  thick  and  fast.  Merriwell's 
friends,  after  being  taken  to  New  York,  had  shortly  fallen 
in  with  a  party  of  Yale  students,  mostly  seniors,  who  had 
come  down  from  New  Haven  on  the  steamer  Richard 
Peck,  and  were  on  their  way  to  view  the  new  govern- 
ment fortifications  at  Sandy  Hook,  by  special  permission 
of  General  Merritt,  commander  of  the  Department  of  the 
East.  This  permission  had  been  obtained  by  Lieutenant 
Andrew  Bell,  of  the  First  United  States  Artillery,  who 
had  recently  been  detailed  by  the  secretary  of  war  as  pro- 
fessor of  military  science  in  Yale  College. 

Merriwell's  friends  had  been  invited  to  join  this  com- 
pany of  students,  that  they  might  the  more  quickly  reach 
their  friends,  and  had  been  brought  to  Sandy  Hook  by 
the  government  steamer  General  Meigs.  From  Sandy 
Hook  the  steamer's  large  steam-launch  had  hurried  them 
on  to  Glen  Springs. 

"And  now  you  are  going  right  back  with  us  to  Sandy 
Hook!"  Elsie  enthusiastically  exclaimed. 


296  Merriwell's  Friends. 

Suddenly  a  silence  fell  on  the  jolly  party,  occasioned  by 
the  shadow  that  came  over  the  face  of  Frank  Merriwell. 

"I  can't  go  until  we  have  settled  the  mystery  of  Barney 
Mulloy,"  he  declared ;  and  then  gave  a  hurried  account  of 
what  he  and  Bart  had  seen  and  heard. 

"I  hoped  you  wouldn't  say  nothin'  about  that!"  grum- 
bled the  landlord,  who  had  been  until  then  an  interested 
listener. 

Up  to  that  moment  he  had  seemed  pleased,  though 
nervous,  for  it  gratified  him  to  have  guests  who  were  of 
sufficient  importance  to  be  brought  to  Glen  Springs  by  the 
launch  of  a  government  steamer. 

"This  must  be  all  nonsense,  you  know !"  he  declared. 
"And  I  can't  have  any  such  reports  go  out  about  my 
house.  If  it  gits  the  reputation  of  being  ha'nted,  then 
good-by  business.  I  won't  have  a  guest  set  foot  in  the 
doorway  all  summer.  I  know  these  people  who  claim  not 
to  be  superstitious.  They  ain't  superstitious  so  long  as 
other  people  sees  things,  but  they  git  confoundedly  so 
soon's  they  begin  to  see  things  themselves." 

"You  have  seen  things  at  sea  that  puzzled  you  ?"  Merry 
asked,  knowing  that  he  was  making  a  center  shot. 

"Who  said  that  I'd  ever  been  to  sea?  And  s'pose  I 
have  ?  I  ain't  worried  people  to  death  about  it  and  broke 
up  another  man's  business.  There  ain't  a  thing-  in  this. 
This  ain't  out  at  sea,  ye  know !" 

The  landlord  seemed  to  have  the  peculiar  feeling  that 


Merriwell's   Friends.  297 

only  ghosts  that  sailed  or  walked  the  briny  deep  were 
worthy  of  consideration. 

"Explain  it,  then !"  Merriwell  demanded.  "You  can 
make  us  feel  that  nothing  strange  happened  last  night  if 
you  will  explain  the  thing." 

"You  was  just  dopey !"  the  captain  argued.  "Your 
nerves  was  shook  up  from  bein'  in  the  water  so  long,  and 
the  skeer  of  the  collision." 

Though  there  seemed  no  use  to  make  an  investigation, 
Merriwell  began  one  immediately.  He  felt  sure  that 
Barney  Mulloy  was  somewhere  in  Glen  Springs. 

"I  know  that  I  saw  him!"  was  his  persistent  declara- 
tion. 

"And  heard  him  walk !"  added  Hodge.  "I  can  swear 
to  it." 

"Yes.  And  though  the  thing  is  so  strange,  it  makes 
me  feel  better,  for  I  am  sure  now  that  Barney  is  not 
dead." 

"But  he  looked  like  a  ghost!  Bart  admitted.  "I'm 
with  you,  though,  to  the  end  in  this  thing.  We'll  go  to 
the  bottom  of  it." 

Questioning  the  people  of  the  village  yielded  no  better 
results.  Everybody  agreed  that  no  person  answering 
to  the  description  of  Barney  Mulloy  had  been  in  Glen 
Springs.  Some  of  them  were  even  more  nervous  and 
indignant  than  the  landlord,  for  almost  the  sole  re- 
munerative business  of  these  people  was  the  keeping  of 


298  Merriwell's   Friends. 

summer  boarders,  and  they  feared  that  gruesome  reports 
about  the  place  would  drive  guests  away. 

"Mr.  Hodge  and  I  are  coming  back  here  to-night," 
Merriwell  said  to  the  landlord.  "Perhaps  we  shall  bring 
some  of  these  friends  with  us.  It  seems  useless  to  con- 
tinue the  investigation  now,  and  I  want,  besides,  to  ask 
some  questions  at  Sea  Cove.  The  launch  is  all  ready  to 
return  to  Sandy  Hook,  and  the  officer  in  command  says 
that  his  orders  require  him  to  return  there  without  further 
delay.  But  we  will  come  back  to-night." 

The  landlord's  face  did  not  give  the  proposition  an 
eager  welcome,  though  one  of  his  business  tenets  was 
never  to  turn  a  guest  away. 

So  the  launch  steamed  away  to  Sandy  Hook,  leaving 
Glen  Springs  and  its  strange  and  unsolved  puzzle  behind. 

Frank  only  partly  enjoyed  the  trip. 

But  for  that  seemingly  impenetrable  mystery,  the  trip 
to  Sandy  Hook,  with  the  visit  of  inspection  which  fol- 
lowed, would  have  been  jolly.  However,  there  was  so 
much  to  be  happy  and  thankful  for,  anyway,  that  the 
spirits  of  the  party  partook  largely  of  the  brightness  of 
the  day. 

The  run  of  the  speedy  launch  up  the  coast  was  pleas- 
ant, and  at  Sandy  Hook  they  found  their  fellow  students 
awaiting  them,  and  were  given  a  right  royal  welcome 
by  Captain  Isaac  Heath,  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  pro- 
ving-grounds. 


Merriwell's  Friends.  299 

"Say,  fellows,  this  is  great!"  Danny  warbled,  as  Cap- 
tain Heath  escorted  them  to  where  the  big  guns  were.  "I 
always  did  like  big  guns !" 

"You're  such  a  big  gun  yourself !"  sneered  Bink,  under 
his  breath. 

"Binky,  if  my  brain  caliber  required  no  more  than  a 
number  five  hat,  as  yours  does,  I'd  sing  low  about  big 
guns !" 

"Number  five  hat?    Why " 

"This  ten-inch  breech-loading  rifle  takes  a  charge  of 
one  hundred  and  ten  pounds  of  Dupont  smokeless  powder 
and  a  projectile  weighing  five  hundred  and  seventy-five 
pounds,"  Captain  Heath  was  explaining,  as  they  stopped 
in  front  of  the  big  seacoast  defender. 

"Say,  they're  going  to  fire  it !"  Bink  gasped. 

"Of  course,  you  idiot !  Did  you  think  it  was  going  to 
fire  them  ?" 

"Better  stand  on  your  tiptoes  and  stick  cotton  into 
your  ears,"  Browning  warned,  as  the  big  gun  was  quickly 
made  ready  for  hurling  its  terrible  projectile. 

"Wh-what  if  the  dinged  old  thing  should  bub-bub- 
burst?"  Gamp  anxiously  asked. 

"We  should  have  to 

"'Ask  of  the  winds,  that  far  around 
With  fragments  strewed  the  sea !'  " 

was  Danny's  comforting  answer. 

Dismal  and  Rattleton  retreated  a  step  or  two,  as  did 


3<x>  Merriwell's   Friends. 

Elsie  Bellwood.  But  Inza  stood  her  ground  as  bravely 
as  Merriwell  himself. 

Then,  before  more  could  be  said,  the  big  cannon 
boomed  forth  its  volume  of  deafening  sound,  making  the 
very  walls  shake.  Danny  tumbled  backward,  then  picked 
himself  up  and  felt  over  his  person  very  carefully. 

"Am  I  all  here?"  he  anxiously  queried. 

All  watched  the  direction  in  which  the  huge  shot  had 
been  fired,  but  it  fell  miles  away.  Merriwell  and  a  few 
others,  provided  with  strong  glasses,  saw  it  drop  into  the 
sea.  The  captain  was  talking  again. 

"The  instruments  record  an  initial  velocity  of  one 
thousand  feet  per  second,  with  a  pressure  of  twenty-four 
thousand  pounds." 

"I've  been  under  greater  pressure  than  that,"  Danny 
chirped. 

"When  you  were  shot?"  Bink  asked.  "All  guns,  big 
and  little,  are  under  pressure  when  they  are  shot." 

"I'll  put  your  throat  under  pressure  when  we  get 
away  from  here!"  Bink  threatened. 

"This  is  a  twelve-inch  rifle,  loaded  with  one  hundred 
and  thirty  pounds  of  powder  and  a  projectile  of  the  same 
weight  as  the  first." 

The  party  had  moved  to  a  new  point,  and  Captain 
Heath  was  again  talking.  Other  guns  were  fired,  after 
the  discharge  of  this  one ;  the  last  shot  being  sent  from 
a  twelve-inch  rifle  with  a  charge  of  four  hundred  and 


Merriwell's   Friends.  301 

seventy-five  pounds  of  Dupont  brown  prismatic  powder 
and  a  projectile  weighing  one  thousand  pounds. 

The  roar,  the  jar,  and  the  vibration  were  like  that  ol 
a  miniature  earthquake.  Captain  Heath's  calm  voice  wa» 
heard  again,  after  a  short  silence. 

"The  velocity  was  two  thousand  and  eighty-eight  feet 
per  second,  and  the  pressure  four  thousand  pounds.  This 
pressure  is  ten  thousand  pounds  too  high.  The  powder 
is  too  quick,  and  will  be  condemned." 

After  this  there  was  an  examination  of  the  guns  and 
carriages,  with  a  lecture  by  Lieutenant  Bell ;  an  examina- 
tion of  the  gun-lift  battery  and  the  hydraulic  lifts,  and 
the  wonderful  Buffington-Crozier  disappearing-carriages, 
and  a  look  over  the  site  of  the  new  artillery  post  to  be 
known  as  Fort  Hancock.  Then  luncheon  was  served. 

In  spite  of  the  many  interesting  things  which  he  had 
seen  and  to  which  he  had  listened,  Merriwell  could  not 
get  his  thoughts  away  from  Barney  Mulloy.  He  had 
already  obtained  consent  for  the  party  to  be  taken  on  the 
launch  to  Sea  Cove  and  Glen  Springs  at  once,  after 
luncheon.  Thinking  of  these  things  and  with  his  head 
full  of  the  plans  for  discovering  the  secret  of  the  hap- 
penings at  Glen  Springs,  he  walked  round  the  works 
again,  viewing  the  emplacements  and  the  big  guns,  but 
with  his  thoughts  far  enough  away  from  the  things  on 
which  his  eyes  rested. 

Suddenly  he  was  attracted  by  a  cry.  It  seemed  to 
come  from  the  air,  and  it  made  him  think  of  the  appari- 


3O2  Merriwell's  Friends. 

tion  and  the  ghostly  footsteps.  But  when  he  glanced 
up  he  saw  Danny  Griswold's  head  protruding  from  the 
muzzle  of  a  large  coast-defense  cannon.  Merriwell  was 
astonished,  though  such  a  piece  of  recklessness  was  just 
like  Danny.  It  was  not  that  Frank  feared  any  peril  to 
Danny  from  the  gun,  but  the  officers  and  gunners  would 
be  indignant,  no  doubt,  if  they  caught  the  little  joker 
playing  hide-and-seek  in  that  way  with  one  of  their  pets. 

"I'll  give  him  a  scare,"  he  thought.  "He  is  getting  al- 
together too  fresh." 

"Danny  Griswold,  that  gun  is  loaded,  and  they  are  go- 
ing to  fire  it !"  Merry  cried,  with  well-simulated  fear. 

Danny's  red  head  came  farther  out,  like  the  head  of  a 
tortoise  issuing  from  its  shell. 

"Then  I  suppose  I  shall  be  able  to  get  out  of  here!" 
Danny  chirped.  "I  can't  do  it,  unless  I  am  shot  out. 
I  slipped  in  here  easy  enough,  but  I've  grown,  I  guess, 
for  I  can't  slip  back." 

"How  did  you  get  in  there,  anyway?" 

"Climbed  in." 

"I'm  afraid  you  will  have  to  climb  out." 

A  gunner  came  hurrying  upon  the  scene. 

"Wh-what?"  he  sputtered. 

"Our  little  friend  is  in  need  of  assistance.  If  he  gets 
out  of  there  he  will  never  play  cannon-ball  again." 

"If  you  will  just  fire  me !"  Danny  begged,  not  a  bit 
abashed. 

The  gunner  was  not  at  all  willing  that  Danny's  plight 


Merriwell's  Friends.  303 

should  be  discovered  by  an  officer,  so  he  quickly  went  to 
Danny's  assistance,  and  "fired"  him  by  bodily  pulling  hint 
out  of  the  cannon. 

"Thanks!"  chirped  the  little  joker,  as  he  dropped  to 
the  ground.  "Bink  says  that  I'm  a  small-caliber  projec- 
tile, but  I  was  quite  big  enough  for  that  cannon.  Say, 
do  you  fire  men  every  day?" 

The  gunner  could  not  suppress  a  grin. 

"Men?  Well,  you're,  likely  to  get  fired,  young  feller, 
if  you  monkey  round  these  guns!"  he  declared. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE   MYSTERY  CLEARED  AWAY. 

What  news  was  obtainable  at  Sea  Cove  about  Barney 
Mulloy  was  important,  though  somewhat  unsatisfactory. 
(Barney  had  been  attacked  by  tramps  and  badly  hurt,  but 
not  killed,  though  at  first  the  report  of  his  death  had  gone 
out.  One  of  the  tramps  had  been  nearly  killed  in  the 
fight,  and  Mulloy  had  disappeared. 

"What  became  of  him?  Where  did  he  go?"  were 
Merriwell's  questions. 

"We  didn't  pay  much  attention  to  it,"  was  the  answer 
given  by  Merriwell's  Sea  Cove  informant.  "Likely  he 
walked  off,  or  went  away  on  the  boat  or  train.  Easy 
enough  to  get  out  of  this  place." 

With  this  meager  information,  Frank  and  his  friends 
hurried  back  on  the  launch  to  Glen  Springs. 

"He  isn't  dead !"  was  Merry's  cheerful  declaration. 
"That  must  have  been  Barney  that  Bart  and  I  saw." 

"But  the  walking?"  Hodge  dubiously  questioned. 

"And  why  should  he  be  in  hiding?"  Diamond  de- 
manded. 

"Some  men  love  darkness,  because  their  deeds  are  evil," 
Dismal  droned. 

"Well,  you  may  be  sure  that  Barney's  deeds  were  not 
«yil,"  said  Frank.  "Barney  is  straight,  and  true  blue." 


The  Mystery  Cleared  Away.         305 

Night  was  at  hand  when  the  launch  cast  anchor  in  the 
shallow  harbor  in  front  of  Glen  Springs  and  sent  a  boat 
ashore  with  Merry  and  the  friends  he  had  chosen  for  the 
vigil  of  the  coming  hours  of  darkness.  The  landlord 
of  the  little  hotel  was  not  pleased  that  they  had  returned 
for  the  purpose  of  capturing  the  "ghost,"  though  he  was 
beginning,  as  he  confessed,  to  feel  "creepy"  about  it  him- 
self. 

"I  was  intendin'  to  set  up  and  watch  for  it,  if  you 
hadn't  come,"  he  finally  admitted. 

No  one  answering  to  Barney's  description  had  been 
seen  in  Glen  Springs  through  the  day.  In  fact,  no 
stranger  whatever  had  been  seen  in  the  place  from  the 
time  the  launch  went  away  until  it  returned. 

"It's  mighty  curious,"  Bart  grimly  observed. 

"I  have  a  feeling  that  we  will  learn  to-night  just  what 
it  is,"  said  Merriwell. 

Frank  occupied  his  old  room,  and  sat  at  the  window 
with  Hodge,  while  Diamond,  Rattleton,  and  Bruce  re- 
mained in  the  office.  The  doors  leading  to  the  corridor 
were  at  first  closed.  Merry  looked  at  his  watch  after  the 
lights  were  put  out  in  the  part  of  the  building  occupied 
jy  the  landlord  and  his  family. 

"It  ought  to  be  coming  around  again  pretty  soon,"  Bart 
remarked,  finding  it  impossible  to  escape  a  queer,  un- 
easy feeling,  anxious  as  he  was  to  see  the  specter,  and  de- 
termined as  he  was  to  effect  its  capture  if  it  again  ap- 
peared. 


306        The  Mystery  Cleared  Away. 

As  he  said  it,  the  sounds  of  those  mysterious  steps 
were  again  heard  in  the  corridor,  and  they  heard  the  oc- 
cupants of  the  office  fling  open  the  door. 

"You  weren't  walking  in  here?"  Diamond  demanded. 

"Not  on  your  life!"  Bart  answered. 

"But  we  heard  some  one !" 

"Of  course  you  did,  and  so  did  we.  And  we  heard  it 
last  night !" 

Rattleton  and  Bruce  came  on  through  into  Merriwell's 
room. 

"Scrate  Gott,  this  is  enough  to  turn  a  man's  hair 
white!"  Rattleton  sputtered. 

"Did  you  think  we  were  just  jollying  you  about  this?" 
Bart  sharply  asked. 

"No,  but " 

"You're  likely  to  see  the  thing,  as  well  as  hear  it," 
Hodge  asserted. 

The  landlord,  who  had  not  retired,  though  making  a 
pretense  of  so  doing,  tumbled  down  in  much  excitement, 
in  response  to  Rattleton's  summons. 

"Did  you  see  it,  boys?"  he  gasped. 

His  face  was  white,  and  he  was  trembling.  All  the  as- 
sumed bravery  had  gone  out  of  him. 

"Only  heard  it  walking  there  in  the  hall,"  Frank  an- 
swered. 

The  landlord  gave  a  jump.  He  had  forgotten  that  he 
was  standing  by  the  corridor  door. 

"Oh,  you  can't  see  anything !"  Frank  reminded.  "That'a 


The  Mystery  Cleared  Away.         307 

the  trouble.  We  can  hear  the  thing  walking,  but  we 
can't  see  anything.  Qose  the  door,  and  we  may  be  able  to 
hear  it  again." 

"Don't!  don't!"  the  landlord  pleaded. 

"But  I  want  you  to  hear  it.  Perhaps  you  can  tell  us 
what  it  is." 

"There  is  never  anything  in  the  corridor,"  the  landlord 
declared.  "I  can't  set  here  if  you  shut  that  door." 

"There  he  is  again !"  said  Hodge,  in  the  voice  of  one 
who  expects  to  behold  the  supernatural  and  inexplicable 
and  has  steeled  himself  against  unpleasant  sensations. 
"There  he  comes !  Barney,  as  sure  as  guns !" 

The  landlord  dropped  limply  into  a  chair,  and  stared 
out  through  the  open  window  in  the  direction  indicated 
by  Hodge's  pointing  finger.  The  others  grouped  round 
Merriwell  and  Bart. 

"You  see  it?"  Frank  whispered. 

"Let  me  out  of  this !"  the  landlord  gurgled,  though  no 
hand  was  restraining  him.  "Booh-h-h!  Let  me  out  of 
this.  Ah-h-h-h-h !  It's  a  ghost,  sure  enough !  Don't 
you  see  that  white  cloth  on  its  head — a  bloody  white 

cloth?" 

He  seemed  about  to  tumble  over  in  a  fit. 

"He's  coming  this  way!"  Merry  whispered.  "Just 
keep  still  now,  all  of  you !" 

Rattleton  seemed  about  to  bolt  from  the  place,  though 
the  others  were  bravely  standing  their  ground. 


308        The  Mystery  Cleared  Away. 

"No  ghost  there!"  said  Browning.  "That's  a  live 
man." 

"It's  Barney,"  Merry  declared.  "He  is  not  dead.  His 
head  is  tied  up." 

"But  what  makes  the — him  sneak  along  in  that  way?" 
Rattleton  gasped.  "Whee-giz,  it  makes  my  blood  run 
cold!  Ugh!" 

"Just  keep  still,  and  we  shall  soon  find  out!"  Frank 
sharply  commanded,  in  a  whisper. 

The  ghostly  figure  came  slowly  up  the  walk.  Nearer 
and  nearer  it  drew,  walking  as  if  it  did  not  fear  dis- 
covery at  that  late  hour. 

"There  is  another !"  Rattleton  whispered. 

The  figure  of  a  woman  came  into  view,  hurrying  rap- 
idly along  the  path  after  Mulloy,  and  seeming  to  be  in 
pursuit  of  him,  though  he  appeared  not  to  know  it. 

"Now!"   Merry   whispered.     "Ready,   Hodge — now!" 

He  leaped  through  the  window,  with  Bart  at  his  side. 
The  ghostly  figure  was  but  a  few  yards  away.  Before  it 
could  turn  in  the  direction  of  the  sound  they  were  half- 
way across  the  intervening  space. 

"Barney !     Mulloy !"  Frank  called. 

The  figure  uttered  a  cry,  and  started  to  run.  But 
Frank's  pace  was  too  swift.  Almost  in  iae  next  instant 
his  hand  fell  on  the  shoulder  of  the  specter. 

"Don't  you  know  me,  Barney?    I'm  Merriwell!" 
The  figure  ceased  its  struggles. 


The  Mystery  Cleared  Away.         309 

"Hurroo!  Is  it  yez  for  thrue,  Merriwell?  I  t'ought 
it  wor  an  officer  thryin'  to  arrist  me." 

"Break  loose  and  run,  ye  fool !"  was  squealed  in  a 
high,  feminine  voice.  "Run,  Barney,  dear — run !" 

"Niver!"  Barney  declared.  "Niver  will  I  run  from  a 
fri'nd  loike  Merriwell!" 

"But  you'll  be  put  in  jail!  You'll  be  hung!"  the 
woman  shrieked,  in  a  vain  effort  to  stampede  the  Irish  lad. 
"Them  fellers  is  officers." 

Bart  had  pushed  up,  so  that  Mulloy  could  recognize 
him. 

"Save  me  frum  her,  Frankie !"  Barney  pleaded.  "Woo- 
oo!  Begorra!  She's  crazier  than  wildcats!" 

Then  he  whispered : 

"The  ould  sinner  wants  to  marry  me.  Think  av  thot! 
She's  been  hoidin'  me  frum  the  officers  fer  matrimoonial 
poorpuses.  Take  me  away  from  her,  Frankie,  darlint! 
Oi've  kilt  a  thramp,  and  I'm  in  peril  av  bein'  hoong  for 
it;  but  I'd  rather  be  hoong  than  to  marry  such  a  cat  as 
thot !  Bad  cess  to  her !" 

"Gentlemen,  the  poor  fellow  is  out  of  his  head!"  the 
woman  purred,  modulating  that  shrieking  voice.  "His 
head  has  been  hurt,  and  he  don't  know  nothin'  thet  he's 
talkin'  'bout." 

Barney  clung  to  Merriwell  and  Hodge  as  if  he  feared 
the  woman  would  drag  him  bodily  away  from  these 
friends. 


310        The  Mystery  Cleared  Away. 

"Oi  suppose  thot  she  may  be  able  to  foorce  me  into 
marryin'  her/'  he  moaned.  "Oi  kilt  a  thramp,  and  Oi 
wor  hidin'  frum  the  officers — may  the  divil  floy  away  wid 
thim — and  Oi  sneaked  intil  her  house,  d'ye  moind,  and 
hid  me  loike  a  fool  under  her  bed.  The  crayther  had 
been  lookin'  under  thot  bed  for  forty  years  to  foind  a 
man !  And  whin  she  let  her  ould  oyes  loight  on  me,  she 
pulled  me  out  av  there;  an'  she's  been  kapin'  me  and 
scarin'  me  intil  fits  and  hoidin'  me  from  the  officers  iver 
since — and,  bad  cess  to  her,  nixt  wake  she  wor  goin'  to 
marry  me." 

"Why  did  you  sneak  round  the  hotel  and  along  the 
paths  in  that  queer  way?"  Frank  asked,  after  the  vine- 
gary-visaged  and  matrimonially  inclined  female  had  de- 
parted in  despair  and  disgust,  and  he  had  Barney  alone. 
"That  still  puzzles  me.  We  heard  that  you  had  been 
killed  by  those  tramps,  and  you  looked  and  acted  enougk 
like  a  ghost  to  be  one!" 

"A  ghost,  is  it?"  said  Barney,  glancing  about  as  if  he 
did  not  like  even  the  thought.  "Thot  ould  witch  wor 
kapin'  me  hid  away  from  the  officers  in  thot  wee  bit  av 
a  house  roight  behind  the  three  over  there,  and  all  the 
ixercoise  Oi  could  git  wor  whin  Oi  could  shlip  out  av 
noights  and  walk  round  and  swally  a  brith  av  fresh  air. 
Oi  t'ought  Oi  had  kilt  the  thramp  and  thot  the  officers 
wor  watchin'  for  me !  Thot  ould  divil  hilped  me  to  be- 
lieve thot  hersilf !  So  whin  Oi  heard  yez  call,  av  coorse 
Oi  worn't  goin'  to  sthop  and  be  arristed.  A  ghost,  is  it? 


The  Mystery  Cleared  Away.         311 

Oi'm  thinkin'  thot  yez'd  be  crapin'  round,  too,  if  yez 
t'ought  thot  a  rope  wor  riddy  to  toighten  about  the  neck 
av  yez!" 


"Haw!  haw!  haw!" 

The  roars  did  not  proceed  from  Joe  Gamp,  but  from 
the  landlord  of  the  hotel.  Now  that  Barney  was  found 
to  be  real  flesh  and  blood,  and  not  a  spirit,  the  landlord 
had  entered  more  heartily  into  the  search  for  the  mysteri- 
ous source  of  the  strange  footsteps.  He  had  been  willing 
that  the  doors  opening  into  the  corridors  should  be 
closed — for  only  when  the  corridor  was  darkened  could 
the  ghostly  sounds  be  heard. 

As  soon  as  the  "footsteps"  came  again  he  threw  open 
the  door  and  chucklingly  led  the  way  out  through  a  side 
room  into  a  shedlike  structure  that  came  up  against  the 
corridor  wall. 

"There  is  your  ha'nt !"  he  roared,  pointing  down  into  a 
pen  in  the  shed.  "There  is  your  ha'nt!  A  gol-derned 
old  sea-turtle !  Haw  !  haw !  haw !  Ho !  ho !  ho !  He ! 
he!  he!" 

The  turtle  was  a  monster  in  size. 

"But— I  don't  see !"  said  Merriwell.  "This  doesn't  ex- 
plain." 

The  landlord  hopped  into  the  pen  and  flipped  the  huge 
turtle  over  on  its  back  against  the  wall.  Thereupon  it 
began  to  kick  out  with  its  great  flippers,  striking  then> 


312        The  Mystery  Cleared  Away. 

against  the  corridor  wall  and  making  the  sounds  which 
had  seemed  to  be  footsteps.  Merriwell  looked  round. 

"I  see!"  he  admitted.  "The  light  from  the  lighted 
corridor  came  through  that  transom." 

"Jest  so!"  said  the  landlord.  "Whenever  your  light 
shined  in  here  it  scart  the  turtle,  and  it  quit  kickin'.  It's 
always  trying  to  climb  out  of  the  pen  and  falling  over  on 
its  back ;  and  when  it  tips  over  near  the  wall  and  strikes 
with  them  flippers,  it  makes  that  sound.  If  it  ain't  near 
the  wall,  of  course  it  don't  strike  nothin'  to  make  the 
sound.  And,  of  course,  soon's  it  can  turn  itself  back — 
which  it  can't  sometimes  for  hours — it  quits  kickin'  out." 

"And  yez  tuk  me  for  thot  thing  and  thot  thing  for  me, 
and  aitch  av  us  knew  nothing  about  it,  and  it  wasn't 
ayther  av  us!"  chuckled  Barney. 

"Just  so!"  said  Merriwell.  "And  right  glad  I  am  to 
understand  it,  and  to  know  that  you  are  living!" 

"And  Oi  niver  wor  gladder  to  see  anybody  in  my  loife ! 
The  soight  av  yez  makes  me  well.  And  Bart,  me  jewel ! 
Yez  are  as  foine  a  laddie  as  iver  lived!  Give  me  the 
touch  av  yer  hand  ag'in !" 

And  so  the  mystery  was  solved,  and  Barney  escaped,  be 
it  said,  heartwhole  and  body  free — while  Frank  and  his 
friends  returned  to  the  city. 

THE  END. 


"BEST  OF  ALL  BOYS'  BOOKS " 
THE  FAMOUS 

Frank  Merriwell  Stories 

By  BURT  L.  STANDISH 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has 
met  with  anything  like  the  cordial  reception  and  popu- 
larity accorded  to  the  Frank  Merriwell  Stories. 

There  must  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is.  Frank 
Merriwell,  as  portrayed  by  the  author,  is  a  jolly,  whole- 
souled,  honest,  courageous  American  lad,  who  appeals 
to  the  hearts  of  the  boys.  He  has  no  bad  habits,  and 
his  manliness  inculcates  the  idea  that  it  is  not  necessary 
for  a  boy  to  indulge  in  petty  vices  to  be  a  hero.  Frank 
Merriwell's  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious 
lad  to  follow. 

Twenty-four  volumes  ready 

Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days  Frank  Merriwell's  Skill 

Frank  Merriwell's  Chums  Frank  Merriwell's  Champions 

Frank  Merriwell's  Foes  Frank  Merriwell's  Return  to  Yale 

Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West  Frank  Merriwell's  Secret 

Frank  Merriwell  Down  South  Frank  Merriwell's  Loyalty 

Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery  Frank  Merriwell's  Reward 

Frank  Merriwell's  Races  Frank  Merriwell's  Faith 
Frank  Merriwell's  Hunting  Tour  Frank  Merriwell's  Victories 

Frank  Merriwell's  Sports  Afield  Frank  MerriwelTs  Power 

Frank  Merriwell  at  Yale  Frank  Merriwell's  Set-Back 

Frank  Merriwell's  Courage  Frank  Merriwell's  False  Friend 

Frank  Merriwell's  Daring  Frank  Merriwell's  Brother 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  PhOadelphia 

(i) 


000  034  436     6 


